


To the End of the World

by nothingisreal



Series: Life Is but a Series of Accidents [2]
Category: Motorsport RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-12-25
Packaged: 2019-08-14 03:06:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 43,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16484837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nothingisreal/pseuds/nothingisreal
Summary: Mick was expecting a normal, quiet holiday with a... friend?... He should have known better. After all, normal and quiet are not an option, whenever Charles is involved.





	1. Monaco

**Author's Note:**

> It's set somewhere between Chapter 13 and 14 of "Life is but a Series of Accidents" but you don't have to read that first. It does contain spoilers, though.

When Mick finally got out of the car, he could only turn his head with great difficulty because of how stiff the back of his neck was and there was the beginning of a cramp in his biceps. His legs protested when he tried to straighten them out, stomping against the pavement to get the circulation back in his calves. It felt like he’d been driving for days rather than just a couple of hours. He knew it was his own fault, though, he should have stopped at least once on his way from Switzerland but he couldn’t bear the thought of putting his arrival off by a minute more.

It was totally worth the pain, he quickly decided, as he took in his surroundings. Monaco was just as breathtaking as it appeared on the photos. Except even _more_ because photos couldn’t give off the atmosphere of the place. Nor did they make him feel like he had butterflies in his stomach. It was silly and he knew it better than anyone but what could he do?

He’d been waiting for this moment for months. After having Charles live with them for half a year, it was harder than Mick would have expected not to have him there all of the sudden. It felt… empty and lonely. And Mick’s absolute refusal to talk to Maxi for almost a month didn’t help with the loneliness either. Not that he particularly regretted having done that. Maxi had more than deserved that.

Mick slowly turned in circle, taking in the buildings and streets and people. He couldn’t explain it, but Monaco had something… It reminded him of Italy in a way, except, as much as he adored it, Italy had never managed to enchant him the same way. Monaco had some charm to it that drew him in.

He looked around, trying to decide if it was really the city or maybe the anticipation, as he pulled his bags out of the boot. His heart skipped a beat, prompting him to curse it inwardly, when he saw Charles walking towards him, white T-shirt stretched across his shoulders and dark jeans which were tight in all the right places. Mick immediately forgot all about Monaco. It might have been the anticipation after all. He’d draw conclusions later.

Mick didn’t care that someone could be watching them as he threw his arms around Charles, pressing his lips to his cheek. He heard Charles’s soft laughter next to his ear and suddenly everything felt right again.

“Missed you,” he mumbled into the cotton of Charles’s T-shirt. He would have hesitated before being so honest but it was _Charles_. Mick had a hard time not spilling out all his thoughts around him. He wanted Charles to know everything and then some.

“Missed you too,” Charles replied with an easy smile, patting Mick on the back before stepping away.

Charles helped Mick carry his bags up to the flat. On their way there he kept going on about how he couldn’t wait to show Mick around Monaco and how happy he was to have him there. Mick was only half-listening, distracted by the way Charles’s hips moved as he walked up the stairs in front of him and the muscles in his arms flexing. There they were again - those feelings people always thought were reserved for teenagers. Apparently, those people had never seen Charles or they would have changed their minds in a second flat. There was a warm sensation spreading through Mick’s abdomen just from _looking_. He could certainly understand how Charles had more girlfriends in a year than Mick in his whole life.

He was so fixated on Charles’s back, he failed to realise Charles had stopped. He mumbled “ _sorry_ ”, feeling his cheeks heating up when Charles laughed softly as Mick bumped against him, not quite managing to stop in time.

“I don’t mind,” Charles said, voice low and a smirk on his lips which made Mick want to push him against the door and just do _something_ to him right there in the corridor. That was exactly the reason why he and Charles shouldn’t be apart for more than several days. It made Mick act like a horny fifteen-year-old.

A door slammed closed a floor down and Mick shook his head as if to clear it. Charles seemed to know exactly what he was doing to Mick. And enjoying it, very obviously. Not that Mick blamed him. He knew Charles loved attention. Especially from Mick. Or at least that was what Mick wanted to believe. He had never quite figured out if it was the truth or just his wishful thinking.

Charles finally pushed the door open and put Mick’s bags down next to it. Objectively, the flat was nothing extraordinary but Mick immediately fell in love. There were clothes thrown carelessly all over the floor, still closed packages with furniture, and some shelves lying on the ground by one of the walls. Mick almost laughed at how much at home he felt straight away. It was a stark contrast to Maxi’s almost obsessive cleanliness and Mick loved it because it was just so unmistakably _Charles_.

It was very bright in the room, no surprise there with the big windows and glass balcony door. But Mick found himself unable to look away from the huge bed on the opposite side of the room. Charles had said they’d be sharing (he didn’t have too, Mick would have assumed that anyway) but Mick had been imagining something smaller and less inviting. If it was anywhere near as comfortable as it looked, Mick could foresee some serious problems forcing himself out of it. Especially with Charles right next to him.

“I know this place is tiny,” Charles said somewhere behind Mick’s back. “But I couldn’t afford anything better.”

Mick turned around to look at him and found him sitting at the small island separating the bedroom from the kitchen. Charles patted the chair next to him in invitation which Mick happily accepted.

“I love it,” Mick said truthfully. “It’s so cosy.”

Charles smiled at him. “You want something to eat? A drink? A nap? You must be tired.”

Mick chuckled at Charles’s sudden worry. “Charles, I’m fine,” he said. He considered it for a moment. There was one thing he really wanted to do and he didn’t think Charles would have anything against that. “Your bed looks comfy.”

Charles eyes lit up and he returned Mick’s smirk. “It is.”

They didn’t quite make it to the bed though. Mick ended up straddling Charles right where they were and rutting against him, their jeans still on. They laughed breathlessly afterwards, Charles pulling Mick down so they could kiss some more and it was absolutely perfect.

 

***

 

Mick did take a short nap after the shower. Even if he drove from Switzerland, rather than Munich, it still was quite a long way. The hot water had loosened up his muscles instantly, making him realise just how tense he really had been. He quickly went from _relaxed_ to _sleepy_ , so he didn’t say anything as Charles wrapped a blanket around him and coaxed him to settle on the bed. Mick didn’t even notice when he’d fallen asleep but the next thing he knew was that Charles was shaking him softly until he pushed himself into a sitting position, putting a mug of coffee into his hands and settling on the mattress next to him.

Mick let himself wake up slowly, sipping on the hot coffee and getting used to the feeling of Charles fingers running up and down his back once again. It didn’t feel foreign as such, Mick doubted Charles’s touch could ever feel foreign to him, but it’d been so long Mick had almost forgotten how comforting it was. It was so different from the way Charles caressed him when he wanted it to go further.

It was early evening when Mick finally felt alive enough to get dressed and go out. It quickly turned out Charles got as enthusiastic about Monaco as Maxi did about Munich. Maybe more so and that was quite a feat. Mick was both pleased and embarrassed about it since he found himself staring at Charles with a lovestruck expression and focusing on the way his eyes glimmered and his cheeks were pink instead of on what he was actually saying.

He liked Monaco, really. And he did look forward to spending his holidays there, who wouldn’t? But he doubted it would have had half the appeal to him, had Charles not been there. And so, instead of looking at the buildings and streets Charles was pointing out to him, Mick kept watching Charles. He took in the pink cheeks and bright eyes and soft smile… Charles seemed so light and happy like Mick had never really seen him before. Sure, Charles did tend to be a rather… _lively_ person in general. But this was something else.

“Mick, are you even listening to me?” Charles asked with narrowed eyes. He was trying to look angry but the amusement in his eyes was so plain, Mick could only chuckle.

“I _always_ listen to you,” he retorted with a cheeky grin and quickened his pace, knowing Charles would catch up with him.

Which he did, several seconds later, sliding his arm around Mick’s waist to tickle at the lower part of his ribs. Mick giggled, grabbing his hand and squeezing it tightly, keeping it pressed against his side. Charles didn’t seem to mind, it wasn’t anything unusual, so Mick just waited for a moment to be reasonably sure Charles wouldn’t try to tickle him the second he let go, and then let his hand fall to his side. Charles kept his palm pressed firmly against Mick’s waist, just like Mick had wanted him to, but his heart still fluttered happily.

“What do you want for dinner?” Charles asked. He wasn’t telling stories about everything in their sight anymore, content to just stroll in silence. It felt like his palm was burning up Mick’s flesh through his thin T-shirt.

Mick forced himself to ignore the way his skin was prickling. Instead he considered all the ways the evening could unfold. Charles really wasn’t a person you’d want to cook for you unless it was absolutely unavoidable. Mick would never forget that time month earlier when he got a text with a question about how to boil an egg. On the other hand, all he wanted to do was to go back and lay down for a bit. As much as he enjoyed the little tour of Monaco, his legs were beginning to protest. And if Charles would be willing to keep him company as he did that, Mick would be more than happy.

“Let’s order a pizza,” he decided in the end.

Charles shrugged. “A pizza it is, then.”

 

***

 

Mick called Maxi while they were eating, to make sure he was doing okay. He’d kind of forgotten about him the moment he saw Charles and now the guilt was killing him slowly. Maxi hadn’t been doing all that great, to put it very mildly, before Mick left and Mick was afraid that now that he was completely alone in their little flat, it’d get even worse. _Heartbreak_ did weird things to everyone but it wasn’t a word Mick had ever expected to associate with his best friend. But then, neither was _miserable_ nor _like a teenager with a crush_. Love really had a way of changing people, it seemed.

“I’m fine,” Maxi assured him again. Mick had heard that phrase at least a thousand times in the past week. “I tidied up a bit.”

Mick sighed but didn’t comment on that. He was expecting to come back to a spotlessly clean flat, with all the laundry done, and all the surfaces shining, and Maxi fixing something which certainly wasn’t even broken just to have something to do. Mick was worried, he couldn’t help it. Not that he didn’t trust Maxi but nobody liked seeing people they cared about being mere shadows of themselves. Especially not people who seemed unmovable - he had never considered that something could ever make Maxi lose his determination and strength of will. Least of all something as abstract as love.

Charles was watching him intently. They were sitting cross-legged on the floor by the bed, an empty carton of pizza between them. Charles had opened a bottle of wine and was now refilling Mick’s glass up to the brim, apparently having decided that he would be needing it. He probably wasn’t wrong. Besides, it was good wine as far as Mick could tell. He was hardly an expert on the matter.

It didn’t matter how many times Maxi repeated that he was fine, like he’d been doing for _weeks_ , Mick didn’t buy it for one second. But then Charles moved behind him the moment he put down his phone, his chest brushing against Mick’s back, and wrapped his arms around Mick’s waist, pulling him backwards against his body. Mick sighed heavily and leant his head back against Charles’s shoulder, relishing in how comforting it felt. _Secure_. Like nothing could ever touch him as long as Charles had his arms wrapped around him.

“He’ll be fine,” he murmured against Mick’s jaw, pressing a quick kiss there while he was at it. “It’s Maxi. He won’t do anything stupid.”

Mick nodded. He knew that, of course. But hearing it said out loud by someone else - by _Charles_ \- reassured him more than he would have liked to admit. He drank half his glass of wine and then turned around in Charles’s arms to kiss him.

They had sex right there on the floor, with the bed no more than a metre away. They giggled breathlessly as they tugged on each other’s clothes and didn’t care that they’d managed to knock over both their glasses, spilling wine all over the floor.

“We’ll make it to the bed,” Mick later said determinedly, making Charles throw his head back against the floor and laugh, still visibly giddy from his orgasm, “one day.”

“We’ve got time,” Charles reminded him with a grin and a quick kiss.

 

***

 

Mick thought he could really get used to living alone with Charles. Sure, they’d shared a room before, when Charles was staying with them in Munich, but it wasn’t quite the same. Mick had never got to see Charles strolling around the flat shamelessly naked. Nor had he ever got a cup of coffee placed on his bedside table and a kiss pressed against his temple. Though that was probably due to the fact that Charles tended to get up ridiculously late. Which was what made Mick so suspicious, even before he noticed that the sun seemed to be a bit too high up in the sky, judging from how it wasn’t burning against his cheek like it always was in the morning whenever they couldn’t have been bother to draw the blinds.

“What time is it?” Mick mumbled into the pillow, frowning. He still hadn’t convinced his eyes to open.

“Half past twelve,” Charles whispered, pressing another kiss, this time to his cheek. “Thought I’d let you sleep in a bit.”

Mick couldn’t help laughing. He finally  opened his eyes and rolled onto his back to look at Charles. “A bit?” He repeated. He didn’t want to find out what Charles considered sleeping in for real.

“What do you want to do today?” Charles asked, slipping back under the covers next to Mick.

Mick considered it for a moment, sipping on his coffee. “I’m feeling lazy,” he decided. He wondered if he should pretend, at least for his own benefit, that it had nothing to do with the way he could see the muscles of Charles stomach shifting just beneath the skin as he made himself comfortable against the pillows. Mick felt his mouth actually salivating and he took a gulp of his hot coffee, hoping it would help him get a grip on himself.

Charles laughed. “I’m beginning to think you’re just after my innocence.” He paused and shrugged, pretending not to notice the incredulous look Mick gave him. There was hardly anything innocent about Charles. “With that said, we can totally spend the whole day in bed.”

Mick laughed softly as Charles sank further into the fluffy pillows, arms crossed under his head. Mick let his eyes wander down the length of his body again. He’d spent so much time exploring every inch of Charles and he didn’t think he could ever get enough. Even if they were just friends having fun, it still felt better than any actual relationship he’d ever been in before. Maybe it was just because they’d known each other for a long time before they finally ended up in bed together? Or maybe it was just that Mick genuinely liked Charles - liked spending time with him and talking to him and yes, the sex was awesome too.

“You’re doing it again,” Charles muttered.

Mick looked down at him. Charles hadn’t moved an inch but he was staring at Mick questioningly through half-closed eyes.

“Am I really so boring you space out every five minutes?” Charles asked, mock-hurt.

Mick smiled softly in reply, wondering how Charles would react if he knew just how not true that statement was. He downed the rest of his coffee in two gulps and lay down on his side next to Charles. Actions really did speak louder than words when it came to Charles. As difficult as trying to _tell_ him something could be, Mick had never failed to _show_ him that.

He let Charles see Mick checking him out and enjoyed the way it made his breath hitch. Charles muttered something about this being unfair but Mick ignored him in favour of running the tips of his fingers down Charles’s sternum to his stomach and then lower towards his hips, pausing at the place where his fingers met the sheet.

“We can’t spend all the time having sex,” Charles said with a laugh.

Mick could see the suspicious bulge in the linen and he just smirked. “Not the whole time, no,” he agreed. “We’ll go out. _Tomorrow_.”

Charles shook his head with a laugh. However, his only answer to Mick moving to lie down on top of him was to spread his thighs wider and dig his fingers into Mick’s shoulders.

 

***

 

Mick tried not to grin too much as he threw some pasta into the pot with boiling water. He had mentally promised himself he’d do something better the next time, but after a whole day in bed with Charles he felt so lazy he had to fight for the motivation to even get up. The water in the bathroom had been turned off, making Charles’s off-key singing all the more audible. Mick didn’t mind in the slightest.

He didn’t even care that his T-shirt was getting wet, as Charles, still dripping wet and naked, pressed his chest to Mick’s back, wrapping his arms around Mick’s waist.

“Why are you dressed?” He asked, almost like an accusation and Mick’s smile only widened.

He gasped when he felt a pair of hands sliding under his T-shirt, caressing his stomach. He was genuinely impressed that Charles still hadn’t had enough. Not that he himself had. But he did need food and possibly swiftly. His breakfast had consisted of that coffee Charles had brought him earlier and he hadn’t anything since then.

It took some convincing before Charles agreed to pull some shorts on and go out to eat on the balcony. It was pleasantly warm, the smell of wet ground after the recent storm hanging in the air. Mick took a deep breath, smiling to himself. The setting sun threw red shades onto Charles’s face and Mick was unable to tear his gaze away once again. Charles didn’t seem to notice this time, too busy shoving the second helping of pasta into his mouth.

“I should keep you,” he said once he was full, pushing the bowl away.

Mick’s heart fluttered happily at the statement. Charles had said it so lightly, almost like it was obvious. Did he really not know how much these words could affect Mick?

“I’ve learnt to cook a bit,” Charles carried on, “but you’re so much better.”

Mick tried not to beam visibly at the complement, as silly as it was. It was pasta, you hardly needed to be a chef to make that. But no matter how ridiculous something was, or how easy, Mick could never just not care when Charles appreciated it.

Not knowing what to say, he called Maxi instead, as he was supposed to anyway. It did nothing to calm his worries, but at least he knew his friend was still alive and reasonably well. At least physically. He shot a glance at Charles who was staring at him with a strange expression. If Mick didn’t know better, he would have thought it was concern.

“I’ll go shower,” he mumbled quickly, almost pushing over a chair in his haste to get up.

He made the water as hot as he could handle and stood under the stream for a long while, just feeling the stream beating down his back and shoulders. It was the happiest he’d felt in years. But he had a feeling he was letting his emotions get away from him. Not that it was so unforgivable, like Maxi seemed to believe it was. He just wished Charles could see it the same way. They were still on the same page, as far as he could tell, but just barely. Mick felt like he was hanging by a thread, this close to losing Charles. Or maybe rather losing this connection he thought they had. One wrong move and it could be over.

It wasn’t just Monaco that got him all happy and silly. Nor the fact that he finally went on holiday. Sure, it helped. And would probably have made him pretty pleased with life on its own too. But he’d be just as content to stay in the middle of nowhere, in some motel, which made him suspect someone could kill him at any moment, with squeaky beds and no signal, as long as it was with Charles. He didn’t even care how silly it sounded. He knew it was the truth. It wasn’t the place that mattered, it was the company. Mick thought there were no truer words.

Charles smiled at him over his laptop when Mick came out of the bathroom. He was sitting on the bed with his back against the wall and a sheet draped over his calves. He closed the laptop and put it down on the floor when Mick went over to his side of the bed and sat down on top of the covers.

“What’s the plan for tomorrow?”

Charles shrugged. “You wanted to go out,” he reminded. “We could eat in a restaurant.”

“Sounds good,” Mick agreed, leaning over to kiss Charles. Then he wondered if that was something they did. They kissed when they had sex and sometimes made out while watching a movie. And there were those times when Charles would just press his lips briefly to Mick’s shoulder or neck as he was walking by. Those times had been getting more and more frequent. Mick didn’t think Charles used to do that a lot before.

In the end, he decided it was probably fine, especially since Charles didn’t seem to mind. He was seriously starting to overthink everything and that never ended well.

“Are you sleepy?” Charles asked when Mick yawned and rubbed his eyes. There was a smile playing in the corner of his lips and something soft in his eyes that made Mick want to kiss him again.

“A bit,” he admitted. It was weird, since he’d slept so much the night before. But maybe it hadn’t been enough to sleep off the hours he’d spent driving.

Charles turned off the light and slid down the bed until he was lying flat on his back. He stretched his arm out in a blatant invitation which Mick wasn’t going to decline. He sighed as he settled against Charles’s side, Charles’s fingers stroking his hip.

“You could’ve stayed up a bit longer,” Mick muttered, eyes closed. “I don’t mind.”

He felt Charles shrug. “It’s okay. I don’t have anything better to do anyway.”

There was the brief thought that there was some deeper meaning in that statement but it was gone before Mick could hold on to it. He was way too tired and comfortable to read between the lines.

 

***

 

Mick genuinely loved Monaco but there was only so much he could do there after a few days without having to sell some vital internal organs. So after a week, they found themselves mostly staying in or going for long walks. They’d got quite domestic in that time. Even more so than when they used to live together for real. Mick didn’t think dwelling on that would be wise though.

They were sitting on the balcony one morning, drinking their coffees and listening to the people walking down the street below them, when Charles mentioned he had always wanted to visit Spain. Mick paused with the cup raised halfway to his lips, a smile slowly growing on his face.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” Charles asked.

“You’re a genius,” Mick exclaimed, putting his coffee down. “Or maybe I am,” he added thoughtfully. “Doesn’t matter.”

And then, leaving Charles to gape after him, Mick ran downstairs to his car to get all the maps he had stashed away in the glove compartment. There was a lot of them, most _borrowed_ from Maxi since Mick saw no use in them - what had the Internet been invented for - but Maxi strongly believed that it was better to be prepared, “ _just in case_ ”. Mick kind of could see his point now.

Making a mental note to buy Maxi a drink as thanks, he made his way back upstairs. Charles was still sitting on the balcony, sipping his coffee. He stretched so that he could take a look at Mick through the open balcony door.

“What are you doing?” He asked, watching Mick throwing map after map to the floor.

Mick started by discarding the ones that would be of no use to them. And so the map of Switzerland, Austria, Germany, Bavaria, and the plan of the Munich underground (“ _how on Earth did this get in here?_ ”) ended up on the floor. Finally, he triumphantly spread the map of Europe on the small table Charles was still sitting at.

Charles apparently decided to indulge him, even though the slightly baffled look on his face suggested he still had no clue what Mick was doing. He took their half-empty cups and put them down on the floor, so they wouldn’t be in the way. The map was so big in comparison to the table that it covered it whole and then dangled past the edges.

“We’re going on a trip,” Mick exclaimed with a grin, palms flat on Belarus and Austria.

“You want to _drive_ to Spain?”

Mick shrugged. ”Why not?”

Charles blinked at him but then Mick saw the corners of his mouth curling up. He made a sudden move as if to kiss Mick before he caught himself and shifted his weight from one foot to the other, clearing his throat. “Can we make a stop in Paris too?” He asked quietly, tugging at the hem of his T-shirt. Self-conscious and Charles weren’t words Mick would ever put in one sentence again but that was exactly what he looked like in that moment.

Mick decided it’d be wiser not to say anything about that. He considered Charles’s question, frowning at the map thoughtfully. “That’s a bit of a long way,” he said. He bit his lip, cocking his head to the side. He caught Charles looking down, away from him, with a small smile.

“Maybe we should ask Maxi to come along?” Charles suggested without hesitation.

Mick frowned, biting his bottom lip. “I don’t know,” he said slowly. “I’m not sure he’d be up for it right now.”

Mick made sure to check in with him everyday and, from the sound of it, Maxi was still in a particularly bad place. As in _cleaning up everything twice, fixing every household appliances even if it wasn’t broken_ bad.

“Okay, then how about Callum?” Charles asked.

Mick blinked at him, cocking his head to the side. This wasn’t such a bad idea. Callum was a fun guy. A fun guy with _a driving licence_. What more could they ask for? Besides, there was the added bonus of maybe getting him to talk to Maxi since Maxi was turning out to be too much of a coward to reach out first.

“But we’re _not_ going to England to get him.”

Charles shrugged, handing Mick his phone. “I think a call will do,” he agreed.

Mick was happy that he had kept in touch with Callum after he’d returned back home. Otherwise, it might have been just a bit too weird to call him up out of the blue.

“Mick, what’s up?” Callum sounded cheerful and genuinely pleased to hear from him. Apparently, he really was feeling better than Maxi.

Mick decided that it’d probably be safer to start with some small talk. So they spent half an hour catching up, despite having texted just two days earlier. When the topic changed to Monaco and “ _having fun with Charles_ ” as Callum put it, Mick saw his chance.

“Actually, we’re planning a little trip,” he said, trying to sound casual.

“That sounds cool.”

“I’m glad you think so.”

Callum oh-owed and Mick stifled a laugh.

“Feel like tagging along?” He asked.

There was a long silence. “You mean, _feel like playing gooseberry_?” Callum corrected.

“Come on, it’ll be fun. We promise to behave,” he added when there was no reply. He ignored the incredulous look Charles sent his way.

Callum sighed. “I’ll think about it, okay?”

“I’ll call you later,” Mick promised and hung up before Callum could protest.

Charles leaned back in his chair with arms crossed on his chest. “We’ll behave? Seriously?”

Mick shrugged. “We always behave,” he said with a smirk.

They spent several minutes making out, before Mick decided they should probably stop until they did something on that balcony which could be considered a public offense. Charles looked like he was going to argue but then he disappeared inside the flat with a shrug, only to return soon after with another bottle of wine, even though it was only noon. They laughed and drank and then spent the day watching some movies on Charles’s laptop. Though they were too busy with each other to actually pay attention.

 

***

 

“Fine, I’ll go.”

Mick tried not to jump from joy when he heard Callum say that. They were in the middle of a very crowded street and it wasn’t that he didn’t want to catch people’s attention, as much as he was simply afraid of stepping on someone’s foot.

“I love you,” he exclaimed into the phone.

Charles looked at him with wide eyes but then seemed to realise what Mick’s sudden excitement meant.

“Don’t make me regret it,” Callum warned but he sounded amused.

“Want me to pick you up at the airport?” Mick offered.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll drive.”

Mick texted Callum the address, then half-turned to Charles, still walking, and grabbed his hand. He only realised what he’d done when Charles went slightly red, eyes wider than before. He composed himself quickly though as his fingers tightened around Mick’s palm. Mick had to look the other way for a minute before he’d managed to get his grin under control.

“We’ve got less than two days. Any ideas how we should spend them?” He asked, aware of how warm and soft Charles’s hand felt in his.

In the end, they decided that they should probably start with packing. It wasn’t too difficult for Mick since he just shoved all the things he’d taken out back into his bags. He might have smuggled a couple of Charles’s T-shirt too. He didn’t think Charles would notice, and even if he did, he probably wouldn’t mind.

As for Charles… he was running around the flat, trying to find all the things he might need and making a huge mess, even by his standards. Mick was nowhere near the level of perfectionism Maxi displayed, but even he found himself sitting on the bed, gaping at Charles in disbelief and mild horror as the latter balled up his clothes and threw them into a bag. In the end, Mick shooed him away and packed for him. For someone who travelled quite a lot, Charles was surprisingly bad at that.

When Mick phoned Maxi that evening he _accidently_ forgot to mention Callum would be joining them. Though, in his defense, it was also just generally hard to focus on finding the right words when Charles sat up behind him on the bed and started trailing kisses down his naked back. All that resulted in, what was probably, the shortest call Maxi had ever got from him.

 

***

 

Callum appeared the following morning, looking less exhausted than Mick would have expected. He shrugged off Charles’s suggestion that he could take a nap, saying that he’d just let Mick drive first and sleep in the car. They had breakfast, Callum and Mick discussing which car they should take while Charles stared at them blankly since he failed to see any real difference. Finally, they settled for Mick’s Fiesta on the account that it had a fuller tank. It was just past eleven when they finally clambered inside.

Mick reached over to pull out the maps he’d put back into the glove compartment. He bent in his seat to drop the whole bundle into Callum’s lap unceremoniously, then turned on the engine.

Callum looked down with a bewildered expression. “What am I supposed to do with a map of Austria?”

“Put it back,” Mick suggested absentmindedly as he tried to back out of where’s he’d parallel parked between two cars. “Find Europe.”

Callum nodded and did as Mick had said, handing the remaining maps to Charles who put them into the glove compartment. Callum spread the map open on the empty seat next to him and studied it with a frown.

“I can’t tell you where to drive if I don’t know the destination,” he said.

“Actually,” Charles said, as Mick finally managed to put the car on the road without crashing into the remaining two or the high pavement. “How about we go to France first?”

Callum looked between the two of them. “France?”

“Antonio’s in Paris right now,” Charles explained from the the passenger seat. “He texted me a couple of days ago, asking if we’d like to join him. I didn't say anything because I didn't think you'd be up to it.” The last sentence was directed at Mick, who shrugged in response. To be honest, a couple of days ago he probably  _wouldn't_ have been up to it.

Mick glanced up to check Callum’s reaction in the rearview mirror. He was expecting to see reluctance or maybe anger, after all it was due to Antonio that Maxi… Though maybe that had been for the best. And, as far as Mick knew, Charles remained in the dark about just how close Maxi and Callum had really been. Mick had figured it out on his own but it really wasn’t his secret to tell. Especially with all the mess that followed. Charles just knew that Maxi was feeling down but he never asked for a reason and Mick wasn’t going to volunteer the information.

But Callum kept smiling widely, as if Antonio was just a friend. Not an indirect cause of him and Maxi not being together.

Mick nodded. Paris it was then.


	2. Some hundred kilometres from Lyon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've played with the POV a bit in this fic. I never ever used to do that before, so to say I'm anxious would be a huge understatement.

The radio presenter was talking about something in such rapid French, Mick wasn’t able to catch even one word. He frowned at the building which he was sure he’d driven past at least five times already and suppressed a sigh. Throwing a sideway glance towards the passenger seat, he rolled his eyes. Charles was sitting spread out as much as he could in the constricted space, tapping away on his phone happily, and bobbing his head in rhythm to the song which had just started playing on the radio. He showed absolutely no inclination to help Mick whatsoever.

It took another twenty minutes and another four times driving past that freaking building, whose sight Mick was quickly getting sick of, but then he finally saw the sign informing him he was about to leave Monaco. Loosening up his muscles, he settled back more comfortably against the seat, a pleased smile making its way onto his lips. It was a beautiful day - the sun was shining and there were just a couple of snow white clouds in the sky. With Charles next to him, the radio blaring one of those summer hits Mick had only ever heard from Maxi’s room, and an open road ahead of him, he really didn’t need anything else to feel like life was being almost too nice to him.

It looked like in that moment Callum was just as content. He was sleeping peacefully, the sweatshirt he had balled up against the window serving him for a pillow. His chest was rising and falling steadily and Mick felt almost jealous of how carefree he looked. And so innocent. Mick wondered if Maxi had ever stayed up to watch Callum sleep. Just the sight of it would be enough to make anyone feel relaxed themselves.

But his brain had to make the comparison before he could stop himself. He had seen Charles sleep, obviously. And it was such a stark contrast to Callum’s relaxed form. Charles could hardly ever keep still, he would be tossing and turning the whole night - even in his sleep. Hogging the blanket, of which Callum had complained so much after that short period of time he had had to share bed with Charles, was the least of the problems. Sometimes Mick would wake up in the middle of the night to find Charles breathing heavily and mumbling in his sleep, his features tense in a frown. The first few times he didn’t know what he should do, unsure if Charles would appreciate being woken up, because he’d know Mick had seen him like that.

Then he found out that Charles would calm down as long as Mick stayed close to him. So it was as easy as wrapping his arm around Charles and cuddling up to him. At least most of the time. Each time, there was no way Mick would be able to fall asleep again, he was too worried for that - seeing Charles so distressed and not knowing how to help was killing him. Sometimes he’d walk around with dark circles under his eyes for days. But it gave him the opportunity to keep an eye on Charles to make sure he was okay. Mick would lay on his side, stroking Charles’s hair away from his forehead or caressing his skin. If only one of them could get some proper sleep at a time, Mick was perfectly happy with it being Charles.

“He’s adorable,” Mick said quietly with a smile, glancing back at Callum.

Charles stirred in his seat, lowering his hands, in which he still held his phone, into his lap, and turning to look at Mick. Mick stole a glance in his direction to see him frowning, his shoulders visibly stiff.

“You’re not wrong,” Charles said slowly. “But he’s also _not yours_.”

Mick shuddered at the possessiveness in Charles’s tone. Or was he just imagining it?

“Are he and Maxi not talking?” Charles asked suddenly, causing Mick to almost crash into the car on his left, as the breath caught in his throat. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Charles throwing a cautious look back at Callum over his shoulder.

He hesitated. “They’re not,” he said after a long silence. It was probably wiser to leave it at that. That wasn’t his secret to tell, least of all with Callum right there in the backseat. Besides, he had no idea how to explain it. He knew a lot, Maxi had confined in him, but there were quite a few details he was still a bit fuzzy about. There were three people who knew about what had happened - Maxi and Callum, obviously, and Mick. Though now, he was beginning to wonder if Charles had caught wind of what had been going on after all.

Charles bit his lip and nodded. As strange as it might sound, there were different kind of silences. The comfortable silence he and Charles could usually share and then there was the tense silence, which most of the time meant Charles had something on his mind. This was doubtlessly the latter. Mick wondered if he should ask about it but then decided it might be wiser to wait until they were alone. And even then, getting anything meaningful out of Charles was hard work. As if he believed that not talking about problems would make them disappear. Mick could forgive him for that, just barely, and only because he knew Charles had no clue how hurtful it could feel. Almost as if he didn’t trust him and Mick couldn’t do anything to earn that trust.

He saw Charles throwing one more glance at Callum over his shoulder. Then a smirk started growing on his lips.

“Charles?” Mick asked, mildly alarmed at the look on his friend’s face. He knew that look very… _intimately_ … It was the look he had right before he’d grab Mick’s arse and drag him on top of him. Or suddenly pull him up off the chair in the middle of the restaurant to sneak him into the bathroom to go down on him. Not that Mick was complaining all that much. Thanks to Charles, he discovered he did rather enjoy being reckless from time to time.

Charles’s hand landed on his thigh, just above the knee, making Mick inhale sharply. He shoot a nervous glance at Callum in the rearview mirror, but the Brit seemed to be sound asleep. Mick wondered if his strength of will would suffice to push Charles’s palm away from where it felt heavy and warm even through the thick denim of Mick’s jeans.

“Callum’s right here,” he muttered, a half-hearted attempt to get Charles to stop, even though both of them knew he didn’t really want that. It might have been meant as a sexual gesture, but it was comforting. Like an assurance that Charles was still next to him.

The tips of Charles’s fingers drew circles on Mick’s thigh, moving higher up his leg with each one. “We’re not doing anything,” he replied matter of factly, pressing down on Mick’s flesh, almost like a contradiction to his words.

Mick flushed when he felt his jeans getting tighter in the crotch area with every second. It was embarrassing how much of an effect Charles could have on him without really doing anything. Mick thought that maybe he should have got used to it by now but it just wasn’t possible. If one day Charles stopped making him feel this way, Mick would probably assume the world was about to end.

“Charles, I’m trying to drive.” His voice was a bit too breathless to sound convincing, even to his own ears. He wondered what Charles had in mind. The hand which was slowly reaching the place where his thigh met his hip seemed to be moving exceptionally slowly. He didn’t know if he wanted Charles to stop or to go faster anymore. His curiosity had got the better of him once again. But he never got the chance to find out.

“For fuck’s sake, guys.”.

Mick jumped in his seat, throwing a started look in the mirror. He had somehow managed to forget Callum was still there. The Brit was rubbing at his eyes sleepily and trying to stretch his muscles as well as he could in the constricted space. Despite the way his whole face felt like it was about to burst into flames, Mick couldn’t help smiling at how adorable and innocent Callum looked. Though he couldn’t quite decide whether he was mad or thankful he woke up when he did. On the other hand, he could have done that several minutes later and then Mick would absolutely die of embarrassment, so maybe it was for the better.

Charles’s hand seemed to be stuck to Mick’s thigh, just below his crotch. He made no move to pull away. He didn’t even seem all that embarrassed. Mick couldn’t say he was surprised. It was no secret that Charles absolutely loved teasing him. He did it as often as he could, _accidentally_ brushing his arse against Mick’s crotch as he was squeezing past in the doorframe, or standing in front of the wardrobe in his tightest pants (or no pants at all) for what to Mick felt like hours, trying to find the right pair of jeans. Which _always_ turned out to be the one that showed off his backside the most. Then there was the question of sex but that was on a completely different level altogether. Mick would never forget the time Charles had spent literal hours kissing and sucking on his skin, never letting him come and making him feel like he was about to go out of his head. That was probably the best orgasm Mick had ever had, to be fair.

“I’d feel safer if you stopped distracting the driver,” Callum added. Mick could _hear_ the smirk he was wearing.

Charles’s didn’t reply anything to that. He squeezed Mick’s thigh, making him want to take the nearest exit and just fuck Charles in some toilet or even right there in the car, not caring who could see. He composed himself, breathing a sigh of relief (and ignoring the disappointment in his chest) when Charles moved his fingers lower, back to just above Mick’s knee.

There was more than enough petrol to last them at least another two hundred kilometres, give or take a few, but Mick took the first exit anyway. He needed to take a breath and calm down before his face would burn from embarrassment. No matter how many times he’d done this already, it still felt weird leaving the motorway. The sudden change from 170 to 40 km/h gave him the impression he was about to stop completely.

It was with huge relief that he finally opened his door and stepped out of the car. Charles sneaked away to find a bathroom but not quickly enough for Mick to miss his knowing smirk. He knew exactly what he was doing to Mick and he enjoyed it. Making a mental note to get back at him later, Mick imagined all the ways he could do that, keeping an eye on the quickly jumping numbers telling him how much he would have to pay. If what had happened was any indication, this was going to be one hell of a trip.

 

#

 

Callum slowly stretched his legs out onto the ground, cringing when his joints made a weird cracking sound as he tried to get up. He stretched his back, looking towards the direction where Charles had disappeared, trying to decide if he should follow. Deciding that his bladder was still empty, he joined Mick where he was filling up the tank instead.

“How long have I been asleep for?”

Mick shrugged. “An hour or so.” He bit his lip, shooting Callum a glance before looking away. “How’re you doing?” He asked after a long pause.

Callum narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out if he understood the question right. He didn’t think Mick wanted to know whether he had slept well or any shit like that. He hesitated for a second before taking a deep breath and reminding himself Mick wasn’t angry with him. “You mean… about Maxi?”

Maybe it was stupid but after everything that had happened, Callum was most afraid of what Mick would think of him. Sure, it was an awful feeling, knowing he had hurt Maxi, and he wasn’t particularly loving his own life either. But Mick’s opinion still felt vital. It always had, from the first time Callum had met the him. He wasn’t sure how to explain it. Maybe he had just noticed straight away the connection Mick had with Maxi. Maxi could be pretty thick at times but Mick had a way of talking sense into him. With Mick on his side, Callum felt like he could do anything. If Mick had hated him, Callum would probably have been afraid to even say Maxi’s name out loud. But for whatever reason Mick didn’t. Not even when Callum himself was cursing his stupidity and wishing he could just take a break from his life.

Mick shot him a look which was a mix of surprise and uncertainty. Then he nodded. “Yeah… About Maxi.”

“I miss him so much,” Callum admitted without hesitation. Mick widened his eyes, as if taken aback by the easy confesion. Knowing Maxi, Callum could easily imagine that Mick wasn’t used to people just answering such questions honestly on the first attempt.

“And I’m worried,” he added. He hadn’t managed to stop thinking about the way Maxi had been acting just before Callum left. He was so… out of character and very much like himself at the same time. Long after he had returned home, he still couldn’t get the memories out of his head - Maxi locking himself up in the room for days and forgetting about the whole world.

Mick sighed, closing the fuel cap. He motioned for Callum to follow him as he went to pay. “I am too,” he admitted.

He paid for the petrol, grabbing two Snickers bars on the way. The woman at the counter smiled at his attempts at speaking French and pulled him into a short chat about where they were going (as Mick informed him later - Callum knew maybe ten French words in total) while she prepared the coffee he’d asked for. He handed it to Callum, offering him one of the Snickers bars, as they slowly made their way back. They didn’t say anything until Mick parked in an empty spot and pulled the handbrake, putting the car in neutral without turning the engine off. Callum appreciated it. It felt like a thousand degrees outside, so without the air conditioning running they would have suffocated in there.

“Can I ask you something?” Callum asked, tearing at the empty wrapper absentmindedly. “How do you think Maxi feels about me? For real. I’ve never quite managed to figure it out,” he added with a humourless laugh.

Callum caught Mick glancing around out of the corner of his eye. He was expecting to feel awkward asking the question but now that he did, he was surprisingly calm. He hadn’t realised how much he needed to hear the answer to that, regardless of what it turned out to be.

Mick turned in his seat so that he was facing Callum. “He likes you. Very much.” Despite his previous hesitation, the words sounded confident enough, like Mick believed in them wholeheartedly. And Callum believed in Mick knowing Maxi well enough to tell how he really felt, even without Maxi saying it out loud. But relief didn’t flood it chest like it maybe should have. It showed its head but then retreated back again, doubts clouding Callum’s mind.

They didn’t concern Maxi’s feelings - if Callum hadn’t been sure of them before, he was now. It was more about what Maxi would decide to do with them. And knowing him, it could have been nothing. It was a terryffing idea and Callum didn’t even want to consider it. He wouldn’t let Maxi do this to them.

Callum frowned at the dashboard. “I thi-” He was interrupted by the door opening and Charles climbing into the back seat. He didn’t look particularly pleased that Callum had deprived him of the opportunity to sit next to Mick.

“That’s cheating,” he told Callum with a pout.

Callum grinned widely, immediately slipping back into the not-quite-faked cheerfulness he’d been trying to display ever since Mick pulled him into a crushing hug, right on Charles’s doorstep.

“Cheating? I haven’t even touched your boyfriend yet,” he retorted, sticking his tongue out at Charles as Mick turned the engine on and backed out of the parking spot.

Charles nodded. Then his eyes widened. “ _Yet_ ?” He repeated incredulously. “What do you mean ‘ _yet’_?”

Callum laughed loudly. He gave Mick a once over and then shrugged with a _not bad_ expression, playing it up for Charles’s benefit. He was loving the reaction it got him. Like Charles knew he wasn’t being serious, but still couldn’t help the jealousy. And that was exactly what it was, Callum was sure of it. It was written all over Charles’s face and in the way he squared his shoulders automatically before realising he was doing it and falling back against the seat with a huff, arms crossed. “And to think I was going to share sweets with you.”

“Well, that changes everything. He’s all yours,” Callum said immediately, turning around and reaching out a hand, palm up.

Charles laughed, winking at Callum. It was maybe the first time Callum felt an actual connection to Charles. They had lived together for months, known each other much longer than that (though they weren’t exactly friends) and yet Callum had never really felt completely comfortable around Charles. He liked him, very much even. But he would feel awkward whenever it was just the two of them, never quite knowing how to act. Now, as Charles pulled a bar of chocolate out of the plastic bag he’d put on the seat next to him and handed it to Callum, his smile warm and seemingly almost embarrassed at how much Callum’s teasing affected him, Callum felt like maybe they could be real friends after all.

“Sorry, Mick,” he said with a grin, tearing at the wrapper. “But it was a good deal.”

Mick chuckled. “It’s okay. I’d choose chocolate over myself too.”

 

***

 

To Callum’s exasperation (not that he was really mad - his heart melted when he saw Charles and Mick being adorable like this), Charles still found a way to be close to Mick. After about ten minutes of driving down the motorway, he shifted forwards so that he could reach Mick’s shoulder. He caressed the nape of his neck for a moment, making Mick inhale shakily, but then was content to just rest his palm there.

Callum shook his head, as if that would help him clear it of memories of Maxi. There was that longing in his chest again but it had been there constantly for a very long time, so that he’d _almost_ managed to get used to it. There was nothing he could do and he wouldn’t be able to get rid of it until he at least _saw_ Maxi once more.

“What have you been up to?” Callum asked, half-turned in his seat so he could look at Charles. He had decided to grasp onto that thin thread of understanding he could see appearing between them. He had been in touch with Mick but when it came to Charles, he only knew as much as Mick had shared with him, and, rather surprisingly, it wasn’t very much.

Charles shrugged. “Not much, really. I’ve got a pretty boring life. What?” He asked when Callum raised his brows in disbelief. “I worked for a bit and then Mick arrived. And then-”

“Whoa, I’ll stop you there,” Callum said, raising his hands up. “I don’t need details.” He could imagine what the two of them had got up to. Probably lots of sex and some other mischief. That was what they usually did, as far as Callum could tell. Though he was discovering another side of their relationship. One which seemed so natural and obvious but which they rarely, if ever, displayed. The one where they would touch innocently just to know the other was close, or share those soft smiles which looked like they were meant just for each other, or when Charles brushed hair away from Mick’s forehead in the morning, right before they set off, and kissed him on the corner of the lips, his hand cupping Mick’s cheek. It was all tooth-rottingly sweet and Callum needed a moment to come to terms with it and not gawk each time they did something like that. Once he got used to it, though, he couldn’t remember what it had been like when they used to keep the gentle gestures to minimum.

Mick’s face turned red again. He cleared his throat and shifted as much as he could without accidentally pressing the gas pedal all the way to the floor or turning the steering wheel. Charles smirked at the reaction, and Callum noted the way his fingers tightened on Mick’s shoulder for a second before relaxing again. “What about you?” He asked Callum.

Callum sighed, thinking back on his less than fascinating holiday. “I spent some time with old friends, helped my parents around the house for a bit. Mostly was just bored out of my mind.”

“You’re starting your last year at the uni, right?” Mick asked.

Callum paused with his mouth half-opened. He didn’t know why but he felt kind of nervous about answering that question. Not that he thought either Charles or Mick would judge him. It was just something that took some getting used to. He giggled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not quite.” He cleared his throat. “I’ve dropped out,” he explained.

He waited for a beat to see what reactions he’d get. Charles widened his eyes at him but Mick didn’t look particularly surprised by the information. It made Callum suspected that Maxi had talked about him. He could have told Mick Callum hated studying English, after all, it was no secret.

Callum bit his lip, unsure if he should give away anything more. Then he decided he would at least see the reactions it got him and it certainly wouldn’t hurt, at the very least. “My parents think I should go somewhere else. I was…” he hesitated again, fixing his eyes on Mick’s face. He took a deep breath and carried on, not wanting to miss anything about Mick’s reaction. “I was thinking that maybe Germany. But like not this year,” he added quickly.

Mick turned his head to look at Callum long enough to send him a warm smile. Callum’s shoulders relaxed immediately as the corners of his mouth rose. “I might be biased but I’d say that’s a great idea,” Mick said, eyes fixed on the road once more. The smile was still there, though.

Charles hit Mick’s shoulder lightly, making Callum chuckle. He’d never thought Charles was the possessive type. _You learn something new everyday_ , he thought, suppressing a laugh. Though maybe it wasn’t so unexpected after all.

“Thanks, but you probably shouldn’t say that. Charles is jealous.”

Charles mock-glared at him for the comment but Callum just shrugged and sent him a wide smile. Charles shook his head but couldn’t help chuckling. Callum didn’t miss the way the fingers on Mick’s shoulder moved to his neck again, caressing the skin there.

 

#

 

Mick’s stomach was already rumbling when they finally deciding to stop for food after three hours of driving. They immediately agreed that going into a town was a better option than stopping at one of the restaurants along the motorway. So Mick took the next exit, taking note of the sign which told him they were about a hundred kilometres from Lyon, and drove onto the main road. He had absolutely no clue where they were but it looked more like a small town than a city. He parked the car not long after he’d passed the sign with the name of the place. He was fairly sure he could never pronounce it without breaking his tongue. If he could even read it in the first place.

Charles stretched his arms above his head to get some stiffness out of his back as Callum and Mick took a look around them. It was… kind of empty and quiet. Certainly not a big city then. Mick didn’t really mind, some peace would be good. Besides, they had a better chance of finding a place at a restaurant. Though first they would have to make sure there even was a restaurant to speak of.

With a glance at one another, the three of them started walking in the direction they’d been driving to, where they hoped to find the centre. After several minutes of walking they stumbled upon a small square with some old looking buildings lined up along the edges and a huge fountain in the middle, to which Mick’s eyes were immediately drawn. In the distance he could see what he assumed to be the town hall rather than a church, judging by the impressive clock on the side of the tower.

They didn’t really have to _look_ for a restaurant as such, since the wonderful smell led them to the right place from the other side of the square. They sat down at one of the round tables put out outside. There was quite a lot of people and Mick caught some snippets of conversations in German and Italian. He guessed that they weren’t the only ones who had decided to get off the motorway to grab a bite.

“I want a pizza,” Callum announced, licking his lips as he stared at the plate one of the waiters was carrying by them. Mick’s stomach made some more noises, louder than before. The smell and sight of food made him a thousand times more hungry than he had been just five minutes earlier.

Charles pursed his lips. “Do we seriously want to eat pizza in France?”

“I don’t know if _you_ do,” Callum replied with a small shrug, “but I’m dying for one right now.”

“I’m with him on that one,” Mick agreed immediately. Neither of them had even bothered to open the menu but it wasn’t important. If it turned out the best they could do was a couple of sandwiches, Mick would happily take them.

Charles rolled his eyes at them, reaching for one of the menus. He considered it for a long moment only to put it back down with a small shrug. He stared at Mick with pursed lips. “You want to have a pizza _each_?” He asked, narrowing his eyes.

Mick shrugged. “One - I’m starving. Two - I’ve seen you eat a whole pizza and then some of mine before so you don’t get to criticise us.”

Charles pouted as his cheeks reddened but he didn’t say anything. Mick turned his head away, unable to suppress a smile as Charles joined their hands under the table, resting them on Mick’s thigh. Mick wasn’t sure what to think of it. He didn’t want to think at all. It was amazing. There was something different about Charles, Mick noticed it on his very first day in Monaco. It was suddenly so easy to forget himself and pretend they were boyfriends - for real, no but’s. That they were _in love_.

It was one lie he didn’t want to be shaken out of. Not ever.

As the waiter appeared again, Charles automatically assumed he’d be the one to order without anyone having to ask him to do so. Which made sense, since he was the only one who spoke French. His fingers squeezed Mick’s palm for a second as he turned in his seat to give their order, his hand never leaving Mick’s.

Mick laughed when he caught the expression on Callum’s face. He knew what it was, he had seen it before sometimes. Callum wore that expression whenever Maxi was all red-faced and sweaty after a workout. Or when he made breakfast in just his pants and a T-shirt.

It was rare, all things considered. Usually Callum appeared more like a love sick puppy, like he still hadn’t comprehended how much he loved Maxi… But Mick had seen what he looked like with arousal clouding his eyes. And that was exactly what it was. Mick didn’t know if he felt more sorry for him or plainly amused. It was a bit as if Callum had just had some sort of an enlightenment.

Callum caught him staring and grinned bashfully. He didn’t blush or even look particularly ashamed. Before Mick could say anything, Callum leaned over, lowering his voice, so that only Mick could hear him.

“I’m kind of turned on right now,” he admitted, nodding towards Charles still talking to the waiter.

Mick snorted, raising his free hand up to his lips. He could sympathise with that. The first few times he had heard Charles speak French, it made him feel exactly the same way. Actually, it still did to some extent. It was just that Callum sounded like he had just made some astonishing new discovery.

A smirk appeared on his face as he realised something.

“You know, Maxi speaks French too.”

To his surprise, Callum just smirked back at him. “Oh, I _do_ know,” he assured Mick.

“What have I missed?” Asked Charles, eyeing Mick worriedly.

Mick, on his behalf, could kind of see why someone would worry. With the way his cheeks were burning, he was sure his face was way past tomato red and more into the burgundy territory. There were just _images_ in his head which he knew he would have a very hard (no pun intended) time getting rid of. Images of Maxi and Callum. It distressed him how much the thought didn’t distress him.

“We were just talking about how French is such a beautiful language,” Callum replied without missing a beat, sending Charles a friendly smile. Mick didn’t know if he should have been impressed or creeped out that he’d managed to keep a straight face.

“I could teach you if you want,” Charles offered.

Mick widened his eyes and inhaled sharply. He had to bite at his tongue so hard he tasted blood, just so that he wouldn’t burst out laughing.

Callum, on the other hand, didn’t even blink. He had a dirty mind, Mick _knew_ that. He would have to ask the Brit later how he could manage to keep his composure.

Callum shook his head. “Nah, I’m terrible at languages,” he admitted.

Mick took several deep breaths and focused on Charles’s soft skin beneath his hand. It took him a moment but he managed to calm down enough to feel like he could join the conversation.

Charles frowned. “Haven’t you learnt German?”

“I think it was because of the teacher though,” Mick said thoughtfully, smirking at Callum who just shrugged, returning the smile.

“Then we should get _Maxi_ to teach him some French too.”

Mick and Callum exchanged looks.

“He has,” Callum mumbled quietly, winking at Mick, making him snort into his glass of water. Charles frowned at them, seemingly failing to see anything funny in what he’d said. He shrugged with an expression which suggested he still had no clue what they were on about but didn’t feel like finding out.

Mick was struck by the sudden realisation that it was so _easy_ to joke with Callum about it. Around Maxi, he was afraid to even mention Callum’s name. But Callum… Callum was acting as if nothing had ever happened. As if he and Maxi were good friends. Or maybe like he believed they were going to fix everything soon. It filled Mick’s heart with hope. If Callum had been acting like Maxi - miserable and guilty but too scared to reach out - Mick wouldn’t have an easy task ahead of him. But since Callum seemed more than ready to see Maxi again, there was hope.

Especially since Maxi did actually want to reconcile. He was just being himself. Mick didn’t know how to get to him. He’d tried to, unsuccessfully. All he achieved was the two of them not speaking for a month. And then Maxi was too busy hating himself for having screwed up and Mick didn’t have the heart to bring him down even more. Whenever Maxi convinced himself he had made a huge mistake (and this time he really had done just that), there was no talking sense into him. At least, not straight away. But with Callum on his side…

Suddenly chirpier, Mick squeezed Charles’s finger, trying to figure out what the current topic of conversation was.

 

***

 

Callum offered to drive next so Charles took it as a permission to drag Mick to the backseat with him. Not that Mick was trying to resist all that much. He shot a glance at Callum who laughed at them but didn’t say anything. As they joined the motorway, Charles leaned across the seat until he could rest his head on Mick’s shoulder. His hair tickled Mick’s cheek and it suddenly felt like ages since the last time they were this close.

“Missed you,” Charles whispered, low enough for Callum not to hear them over the wind.

Mick laughed softly even as his heart sped up. It was nice knowing he wasn’t the only one who felt that way. “I haven’t gone anywhere,” he whispered back.

Charles shrugged, letting out a heavy sigh which Mick felt more than heard. He rested his hand on Mick’s inner thigh but Mick got the impression that there was no sexual implications behind it. Charles didn’t say anything, just sort of half-cuddled him. It was uncomfortable with the seatbelts and the cramped space but Mick would never even dream of pushing him away. He wrapped his arms around Charles and pulled him against his body more securely, relishing in the little bit of comfort it offered.

He caught Callum glancing at them in the rearview mirror with a soft smile. He was half-expecting a sarcastic remark or  a joke at the very least but Callum just looked back on the road and pretended not to have noticed anything. Mick suddenly realised that he had actually missed him. A lot. He hadn’t been sure if he could call them friends but in that moment he thought that they probably were. The kind of friends that just sort of _clicked_ without really having to try too hard because they got each other. Him and Callum were probably more aliked than he had suspected.

If he was being honest with himself, he would have to admit it was one of the reasons he had let the Brit off the hook so easily after he’d hurt Maxi. Sure he was mad at first. Seeing Maxi so broken was killing him. But it was enough to hear Callum’s side of the story and he just didn’t have it in him to hold a grudge. He was an idiot but then so was Maxi and Mick just loved them both to bits. The two were meant for each other, whether they had realised that or not.

Mick closed his eyes with a smile, leaning his head against Charles’s and covering the hand on his thigh with his own.

 

***

 

They stopped about halfway between Lyon and Paris to stretch their legs. Charles had gone to buy some water, as Callum paced back and forth around the practically empty car park and bending in half from time to time to massage his calf as he muttered something about a “ _bloody cramp_ ”. Mick smiled in sympathy and rested against the bonnet, squinting against the bright sun. He watched Charles walk out of the store, once again getting lost in his thoughts as he often did whenever he got the chance to just look at Charles. Some girl with beautiful auburn hair, which reached her waist, and a skintight short top came up to him. Mick couldn’t help but snort when she bumped into Charles. It was so obviously on purpose that you’d have to be blind not to notice.

Charles didn’t seem to mind in the slightest. Mick couldn’t take a good look from the distance but what he _could_ see was more than enough. _He_ wouldn’t have minded getting his hands on that body. So it was hardly surprising when Charles smiled broadly, extending his hand, probably introducing himself. That was only to be expected. Mick would have been more shocked if Charles had passed up on such an opportunity. He knew what would happen next too.

He wondered if the girl realised that there was no hope for… anything, really. She wouldn’t even get a phone number. A couple of compliments, a nice smile, a name, and a handshake was all Charles would offer. That was the way it always was. Or at least for a very long time now. The last girl Mick had seen Charles wanting to get closer to must have been that stripper with whom he used to go out for… how long was it - a month? Two months at most. But that was back in December.

Mick widened his eyes as he realised that. Charles _loved_ girls. And he loved sex. He had been getting the latter from Mick, that much was true. But it didn’t explain why he hadn’t (at least as far as Mick knew) gone out and found himself a girl in _seven months_. And why he suddenly started turning down all the offers. And, God, did he get those.

It was almost comical how often people came up to him whenever he was out. Mick knew, he had often seen it with his own eyes. He could understand why Charles wanted nothing to do with those girls he wasn’t attracted to. But no one who could see, even poorly, could not be attracted to the girl who was trying to chat him up now. As crude as it might sound, Mick thought that her boobs alone should have been enough to get any straight guy drooling. Not to mention a guy with Charles’s libido and reputation.

“You don’t mind that he’s all over her?” Callum asked suddenly, making Mick start. The Brit propped himself on the bonnet next to him, crossing his arms on his chest.

Mick shook his head as if to get rid of his thoughts and shrugged. “Why should I?” When he turned his head, finally tearing his eyes away from Charles, he saw that Callum was staring at him with narrowed eyes and a crease between his brows.

“You’re not…” he trailed off, his tongue swiping over his bottom lip. “ _Seriously_?”

“Not _what_?” Mick asked.

“Together.”

Mick felt like he should have laughed out loud but he suspected it would have sounded hysterical more than anything else. Callum had unknowingly burst the little bubble Mick had hidden himself away in. That little world where he would spend the rest of his life waking up next to Charles and watching him make dinner and hearing him sing in the shower… He could have pretended because nobody had ever brought up the topic. Until Callum did and Mick was forcefully brought back to Earth.

Letting out a shaky breath, Mick shook his head.

Callum was biting on his bottom lip, thoughtfully regarding Charles flirting with that girl. “You should probably tell him,” he finally said. He turned to look at Mick again, only to be met with a blank stare.

Mick studied him for a long moment. But Callum didn’t say anything more. He didn’t even move. So Mick decided, against his better judgement, to prob some more.

“What should I tell him?” He asked.

Callum sighed and shot him a glare. “How about that you like him as more than a friend?”

“I don’t!” Mick protested automatically. Even to his own ears it sounded like a lie.

Callum rolled his eyes as the corners of his mouth twitched, giving Mick the impression that the Brit was trying not to laugh at him. “You’re basically a couple,” he said, looking back at Charles. “Maybe except for the fact that he flirts with more girls than should be allowed.” He considered it for a moment. “Frankly, I’m kind of jealous,” he muttered, watching the girl put a hand on Charles’s shoulder and cock her head to the side with a smile.

Mick sighed. “You’ve got Maxi.” He hadn’t meant to say it. It could really hurt to hear that because of how true and not true it was at the same time. Mick was wondering if he should apologise (what for?) but Callum smiled at him warmly and shrugged. Mick decided to push some more. “You should talk to him,” he said.

Callum bit his lip and nodded slowly. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to talk to _you_.”

Mick frowned but motioned for him to go on.

Callum finally looked away, deciding to stare at his own trainers. “You know how he was right before I left?”

“Ignoring you.”

“Studying all the time,” Callum corrected him, shaking his head. “Not sleeping or eating and all… stressed and upset…”

Mick nodded slowly.

Callum looked back up at him. “Does he do that often?”

Mick regarded him for a long moment without saying anything. He didn’t know how he should reply to that. Callum deserved the truth but, on the other hand, Mick felt like just giving the short answer would leave Callum with a false impression of what Maxi was like. Not that he thought Callum needed to have Maxi _advertised_ or anything. There was very little anyone could do to change the way Callum felt about him and Mick was aware of that. Maybe Callum was too.

“I only ask because I’m worried,” he added when Mick didn’t reply for too long.

Mick nodded slowly, biting his lip. “I wouldn’t say _often_ ,” he said, carefully choosing his words. “But he does get carried away sometimes.” He paused. He wanted to say more but he didn’t want it to sound like he was blaming Callum. Still… “He was ignoring you partly because… well, you know…”

Callum smiled sadly. “I know I shouldn’t have done that. I don’t think I’ve forgiven myself yet,” he said. “You should still talk to Charles. Learn from my mistakes or something,” he added, chuckling.

Mick saw Charles approaching them and nudged the Brit.

“We’ll finish this conversation,” Callum promised ( _threatened?_ ) quickly, grinning at Charles.

Charles stopped several metres away from them and narrowed his eyes. “What are you two up to?”

Callum and Mick exchanged glances and shrugged. “Nothing,” they said at the same time.

 

***

 

Callum and Charles chatted about something animatedly as Mick stared out of the window. He wasn’t listening to them. He was replaying the conversation he had with Callum in his head, over and over again. Was it really what people thought about him and Charles? That they were a couple? Callum knew them, he’d lived with them for months and he thought so too. And wasn’t that what Maxi had assumed as well?

Okay, so maybe Mick had entertained the idea for some time. But he never actually thought of mentioning it to Charles out loud. It was just something that popped up in random moments. Like when he was washing the dishes in Charles’s kitchen. Or listening to Charles’s awful, off-key singing, which he loved anyway. Or watching him on those rare occasions when he managed to sleep soundly, curled around Mick, looking unusually peaceful.

He was acutely aware of the heavy weight on his thigh where Charles’s hand was. It didn’t really bother him as such. But it was a constant reminder that he had no clue what they were actually doing. Callum was right, Mick needed to talk to Charles. He liked their relationship as it was but the problem was he felt uncertain. He didn’t know what Charles thought of what they were doing anymore. He would be fine with keeping things simple, at least he hoped so. But he wasn’t sure how much longer he could keep lying to himself that he didn’t _want_ anything more. He did. Maybe he always had.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts, he didn’t notice the sudden silence that fell upon them. Save for the wind and the radio, nobody was talking anymore. Charles removed his hand from Mick’s thigh, only to slip it into Mick’s a second later. Mick almost started but caught himself.

“What’s wrong with you?” Charles asked, brows furrowed as his thumb caressed the back of Mick’s hand.

That was a great opportunity to tell Charles what was bothering him. Or it would have been, had Callum not been there and if Mick had several hours to spare to convince Charles it _was_ something they should talk about.

So Mick just smiled and gave Charles’s hand a squeeze, ignoring the way it made his stomach twist unexpectedly. “Just thinking,” he says. Not a lie but not quite the truth either. Mick was sure Charles noticed. He didn’t push tough. He never did.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not much happens in this chapter, which I feel is quite an achievement, considering it's over 7000 words.  
> PS. There won't be an update next week, since I don't want anyone (myself included) to be distracted from Macau.  
> PPS. I'm not sure if there won't be one chapter more than I had planned. But don't quote me on that. I still haven't finished, so I might manage with "only" seven.


	3. Paris

They arrived in Paris well past ten. The sky hadn’t turned completely dark yet, but the street lamps were on. Callum gazed up at the few stars that had appeared above them. He used to love watching them as  a kid. When he was little, he would go out to the garden and lie on the ground for hours, just gazing up at the sky and dreaming. His mum would always call him inside as she went to bed. And he never listened - probably the only order from her he had ever ignored. He had a feeling that at some point she stopped expecting him to listen anyway.

Mick bumped their shoulders together and Callum turned to look at him with a small smile. “Sorry, I spaced out,” he said.

Mick shrugged and grinned back. “They are beautiful,” he agreed, glancing upwards. Callum felt his sympathy for the German grow even more. “Charles is waiting for us though.” He nodded towards the impressive building they were standing in front of.

Maybe the carpet at the entrance and the sheer size of it should have been a clue, but Callum hadn’t realised how fancy the hotel was before he walked in. He almost wanted to retreat the second his foot touched the marble floor because there was no way in hell the three of them together could afford  _ a bed _ in that place, let alone  _ rooms _ . But Charles seemed to think otherwise, as he strolled up to the receptionist with a huge grin. So Callum turned to Mick instead, relieved to find him looking just as baffled as Callum was feeling. 

“Your boyfriend is  _ nuts _ ,” Callum said lowly, gazing up at the gold-plated bannisters.  

Mick opened his mouth but apparently found nothing to say, so he just shrugged in reply. He didn’t correct Callum, neither on the  _ boyfriend _ , nor on the  _ nuts _ part. Though, to be fair, the latter  _ was _ rather difficult to argue with in that moment.

Charles came back to them way too quickly, considering the queue which was stretching out across half the hall. He was still grinning, making Callum wonder if he had maybe sneaked some alcohol into the car without them noticing.

“How do you want us to afford this?” Callum asked, eyeing the keys in Charles’s hand like they were live cobras about to attack him.

Charles actually blushed. Mick raised an eyebrow at him, the bafflement on his face replaced by… suspicion? curiosity? Callum couldn’t quite tell.

“I… I know the girl,” Charles admitted, nodding back towards the reception. There was no need asking what he meant. It was apparent in the way his whole face was red and he was staring at the expensive-looking rug instead of at them. Besides, the girl must have been really…  _ impressed _ with him, Callum decided. There was no way they’d be getting a lower price in a place like that for a smile and a compliment. Not even when they came from Charles.

“I’ve got us two rooms,” Charles added before the silence could get  _ too _ uncomfortable. Or before anyone could ask anything and that was exactly what Callum had been about to do. He got the message though, quickly shutting his mouth with a nod.

Deciding that what Charles had done with that girl was none of his business anyway, Callum imagined the bed waiting for him upstairs and suddenly felt exhausted. All he wanted to do was to go up to his room, take a shower, and then wrap himself up in every blanket he could find, despite the temperature, and rest for a bit.

Apparently, Charles didn’t feel the same way.

“Antonio’s going to meet me here soon and we’re going out. You coming?” The question was directed at Callum who widened his eyes, wondering if Charles was joking. It didn’t look like it. Even considering the fact that he didn’t actually  _ drive _ the car, it must have been at least tiring for him. Travel was fun, Callum could really see the appeal of it, but it was also rather taxing and he couldn’t come to terms with anyone not wanting to take at least a short break after several hours in a car.

“You want to go out  _ now _ ?” He asked incredulously. At Charles’s nod, Callum shook his head. “I just want a bed and a shower.”

They both turned to look at Mick who looked startled at the sudden attention he was getting. He composed himself quickly though, seemingly considering the unasked question. He bit his lip, eyes fixed on Charles as if looking for a sign from him. He seemed to have got none, as he turned to Callum instead. In the end he shrugged with a heavy sigh.

“I think…” he paused, licking his lips. “I’m with Callum on this one,” he said slowly. 

Charles didn’t look particularly disappointed at the news, accepting it with a shrug. Callum could have sworn that was relief flashing across his face. It made the Brit feel extremely ill-at-ease, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on  _ why _ .

“Which one of us takes the key then?” Mick asked. 

Callum thought Charles went several shades whiter at the question. His hand came up to stroke the back of his neck as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Actually… I thought you might want to share with Callum,” he said in one breath. 

It took a moment until Callum could untangle the words and make sense of the sentence. Or at least try to. The thing was - it _didn’t make sense_. There was no reason - not a single one - why Charles wouldn’t want to have Mick in (what Callum imagined to be) a huge, comfortable bed, all to himself for the whole night. If that was Maxi in Mick’s place and it was last April (or even now - he could never _not_ _want_ Maxi), Callum would have jumped at the chance. It didn’t necessarily mean sex. It was just… when people like someone, they want to have them close to them and for the whole world to disappear. 

Mick looked like Charles’s words were still sinking in. He was staring at an armchair, blinking slowly with a frown like he was trying to solve a particularly difficult maths problem. Calum decided it was better to get him away from there - from  _ Charles _ \- before his brain could process the statement. So he grabbed the key from Charles’s outstretched hand, wondering what the insistent and maybe slightly pleading look sent his way was supposed to mean. Then he wrapped his fingers around Mick’s arm, nudging him gently towards the lifts.

As soon as the door had closed, Mick leaned the back of his head against the mirrored wall of the lift and closed his eyes. Callum hesitated with his hand hovering over Mick’s shoulder. Then he let it rest there, hoping to offer some comfort, or maybe to at least ground Mick a bit, remind him he wasn’t alone. He had never really seen Mick upset before, wasn’t even sure if that was what he was now. But it was in moments like those that Callum wished he could just call Maxi up and ask him for help. 

“You okay?” Callum asked, feeling his heart squeeze in sympathy.

Mick opened his eyes to stare at Callum with an unreadable expression for a long while. Then he smiled weakly, raising his hand to squeeze Callum’s, which was still resting on his shoulder. It was a reassuring gesture, an unspoken  _ I’m fine _ . Callum felt himself relax a bit.

“I thought we could talk,” Mick said, straightening his back. “You don’t mind, do you?”

Callum smiled softly, shaking his head. To be honest, he had been meaning to talk to Mick too. “Of course not.”

They put their bags down by the door and took a look around. Callum could see his own amazement echoed in Mick’s eyes. It was probably  _ the  _ most luxurious room Callum had ever been in. And it was fucking huge. Not that Callum cared all that much. All he needed in that moment was what appeared to be an extremely soft and comfortable bed. It looked like at least four fully grown people could have easily slept there without feeling too crowded. 

Callum threw himself face first onto the bed as soon as the bags had touched the ground, making Mick laugh. It was a nice sound which made something in Callum’s chest loosen up some more. He didn’t think he could have beared it, had Mick been upset at Charles’s strange behaviour. Callum bounced up and down on the mattress as Mick followed his example and landed right next to him on the bed. Callum turned his head to face Mick, too lazy to move any more than that. “Let’s shower in the morning,” he suggested. 

Mick nodded enthusiastically, like Callum had just had the best idea in the world. So they kicked off their shoes and jeans and climbed under the silky covers. They both sighed happily as their backs touched the stack of pillows at the head of the bed. Callum thought there were few things which felt as good as finally lying down after a long day. Even if it had been fun, he still felt exhausted. Not exhausted enough to pass up on the opportunity to spend some time with Mick though. He didn’t feel sleepy anyway.

He stared at Mick’s profile questioningly as the German played with his phone, turning it over with his hands several times, seemingly deep in thought, before finally lowering it back to his lap.

“I should call Maxi,” he mumbled, having noticed Callum’s questioning look.

Callum’s heart skipped a beat. Not sure if it was a good or a bad sign, he shrugged. “Go ahead.”

Mick bit his lip, staring at the dark screen. “It feels kind of wrong though, you know,” he admitted slowly, meeting Callum’s eyes. “With you right here, I mean.”

Callum nodded. He considered pushing for Mick to do it, because he wanted to be sure Maxi was fine, but he didn’t know if that was a smart idea. He wasn’t sure what he would have done upon hearing Maxi’s voice again after such a long time. 

Mick put the phone on the nightstand. When he slumped back against the pillow, there was a shadow of something Callum couldn’t quite place on his face. If he had to guess, Callum would have said it had something to do with Charles.

“Are you upset?” he asked, studying Mick closely. “You look upset.”

Mick shrugged, staring at his hands. He sighed heavily. “Can we cuddle?” He asked, sending Callum a pitiful look.

Callum’s heart felt like it was breaking and melting at the same time. “Oh, you poor thing, of course.” Mick had comforted him before, shockingly since it was just after Callum had basically broken Maxi’s heart, but also many times since then. But that evening was the first time the roles were reversed. Mick wasn’t the kind of person who tended to be sad all that much. Not unless something really upsetting had happened. But then, neither was Callum. He had just managed to get himself into quite a mess and was still in the process of trying to dig himself out.

He let Mick settle against his chest, his fingers tracing invisible patterns on Mick’s side. He hadn’t realised it but Mick wasn’t the only one who needed that. It was another thing the two of them had in common - the unshakable belief that touch could, if not  _ fix _ everything, then at least make the suffering more bearable. Maxi wasn’t really like that. Not that he had ever denied Callum physical contact. But it was pretty obvious he felt uncomfortable seeking it from others.

“I’m glad you’re here,” Mick said quietly, raising his head to look at Callum. “I really need to talk to someone and Maxi’s…” he paused, biting his lip. “He has enough problems of his own.”

Mick shrugged off Callum’s guilty  _ sorry _ and pressed his face against his T-shirt, his ribcage expanding under Callum’s palm as he inhaled deeply

“You know, I never even asked if you were still mad at him,” Mick said quietly, shifting so that his head was resting on his own pillow, even though Callum’s arm remained wrapped around him. 

Callum furrowed his brows. There really wasn’t anyone else Mick could have meant but Callum still decided to make sure. “At Maxi?” 

Mick nodded.

“Why would I be mad at him?” Callum asked, cocking his head to the side. If anyone could be mad it was Maxi. He had done nothing wrong - it was Callum who had fucked up. Not that Maxi was an angel either. But all he did was more than justified.

“He kind of blew you off.”

Callum laughed, his fingers squeezing Mick’s side. “I wasn’t  _ mad _ ,” Callum said. “I was worried sick but not mad.”

Mick gaped at him, as if he really hadn’t expected to hear something like that. 

“You kind of look like you want to kiss me,” Callum muttered, laughing at Mick’s expression.

“I’ve just realised how amazing you are,” Mick said immediately. Too quickly to be just a retort. 

Callum smiled, letting out a nervous laugh. “Thanks,” he whispered, staring at the ceiling, trying to get the burning out of his cheeks.

They were both silent for a moment. Callum was the one to speak up first. “You know you can tell me anything, right?” He asked, feeling a bit foolish but needing Mick to hear it said out loud. “I know I’m not Maxi but I  _ am _ your friend.”

Mick laughed softly propping himself up on his elbow. “Sure you’re not Maxi,” he said with a grin. “Maxi would rather  _ die _ than say something like that out loud.” 

Callum considered it for a moment before nodding with a laugh. “The offer still stands.”

Mick sent him a thankful smile. He settled back against Callum’s chest. He opened his mouth several times as if to say something but no words came out.

Callum picked at a loose thread in the blanket. “You don’t have to answer,” he said. “But what is it with you and Charles? The full story, from the beginning.”

He felt Mick go stiff beneath his hand for several seconds. Then his whole body relaxed as he leaned more fully against Callum, resting most of his body weight on the Brit. He let out a shaky sigh, visibly trying to compose himself. Callum didn’t rush him. He waited until Mick stopped chewing on his bottom lip and opened his mouth to say something. He hesitated for a moment longer but then finally made up his mind. 

“I’ll give you the full story.”

Callum listened to every word, never interrupting, despite the many questions popping up in his head. He just let Mick talk about everything that was bothering him. It really was the whole story - from how it started off as the two of them just having sex from time to time to where they were now. He talked about how he felt like he was losing his mind because Charles was acting strange all of sudden and Mick was so confused because he didn’t know where he stood anymore. He even confessed that maybe he was in love with Charles and he wanted to tell him so much but he couldn’t because Charles just  _ wouldn’t listen _ .

By the time Mick had ran out of things to say, it was just past midnight. It looked like he could barely keep his eyes open and Callum had a similar problem. They argued about who should get up to draw the blinds for a while, before Callum finally relented, saying that he was going to the loo anyway. As he settled back under the covers, Mick was already asleep. With a soft smile Callum adjusted the blanket around him, happy that at least then he could find some peace of mind. He hesitated for a second but then realised they both needed the little bit of comfort. So he snuggled closer to Mick, letting his eyes fall shut as he focused on matching his breathing with Mick’s.

 

***

 

Callum thought the clock in his phone must have stopped working. There was no way it was already past midday. But the heaviness in his head and the rumbling in his stomach convinced him otherwise. It was with relief that he noted Mick was still sleeping soundly next to him. At least Callum wasn’t the only one who had slept for half a day. They must have been more exhausted than either of them had suspected.

Several minutes later, fresh clothes in one hand, Callum hesitated, unsure if he should wake Mick up. The boy had deserved some rest. But before Callum could have made a decision, Mick shifted on the bed, hiding his face in the pillow with a groan.

“My head is killing me,” he mumbled, turning onto his back. He sighed heavily before pushing himself up into a seating position and rubbing at his eyes. “I’ve slept for way too long,” he said.

Callum shot him a sympathetic smile and handed him some painkillers on his way to the bathroom. He stepped under the shower, sighing contentedly as the warm water hit his tired muscles, effectively waking him up. There was a knock on the door just as Callum was trying to gather enough motivation to reach for the soap. He peeked out from behind the curtain to see Mick tentatively stepping inside.

“Is it okay if I shave now?” He asked, almost too quiet for Callum to hear him over the sound of the running water. 

He shrugged, without really considering the question. “Sure.”

Mick was obviously awkward about this but he seemed to have got over it by the time Callum stepped out of the shower about five minutes later. In the mirror Callum could see the determination with which Mick kept his eyes fixed on the sink as Callum wrapped a fluffy towel around his waist. It was almost funny how ill-at-ease he looked. Callum bit at the inside of his cheek and made his way over to the sink.

“Stop being weird,” he told Mick, hip checking him as he reached for the toothbrush he had laid there earlier.

Mick stared at him with wide eyes, one cheek still covered in shaving foam. Then they both cracked up. 

“I’m sorry,” Mick said. “It must be the… whatever the opposite of sleep deprivation is.”

Callum grinned at him as they both resumed their tasks. When Callum winked at him in the mirror as he undressed, Mick’s only reaction was to stick his tongue out at him, before disappearing in the shower.

“Don’t even think about it, Ilott,” he warned, having to shout over the running water for Callum to hear him. “I’ll tell Maxi you’ve tried to seduce me.”

Callum smiled at his own reflection. The bathroom was way too big and luxurious but if he closed his eyes, he could pretend they were in Munich and everything was just as it should be.

 

***

 

By the time they walked out of the room onto the long hotel corridor, it was already two in the afternoon. 

“There’s no breakfast,” Callum said, brushing the hair away from his forehead for a hundredth time. It was still slightly damp and just wouldn’t stay in place. With a sigh he decided to give up and fix it later.

“It’s lunch time,” Mick exclaimed, laughing. 

Callum shrugged. “Whatever. We’re in Paris. There are a thousand ca-...” He trailed off when he saw the door to Charles’s room open. But Charles didn’t come out. Instead, a girl emerged, long dark hair tangled and makeup from the previous night smudged. Callum blinked quickly several times, as if that would make the scene in front of him change. It didn’t. 

There could have been an innocent explanation for that, right? After all, she was a hotel employee, though it did take several seconds until Callum could recognise her as the reception from the previous night. She looked rather different in the skin tight red dress and with the stilettos clutched in one hand. But it was undoubtedly her. Callum hated to admit it but there were only so many things she could have been doing sneaking out of a guest’s hotel room, half-dressed and looking like she had spent most of the night doing anything other than sleeping.

Callum shot a worried glance to his right. Mick was standing there, looking like he hadn’t quite comprehended what had just happened. As if his brain refused to make a connection between the facts and give him the full picture of… Maybe that was for the better.

Feeling his own heart cracking slowly, Callum grabbed Mick’s elbows and dragged him in the direction of the lifts.

 

***

 

“Please, say something,” Callum begged, unable to take the silence for a second longer. At least fifteen minutes had passed and Mick was yet to utter a single word.

“The coffee’s good,” Mick said after a beat, playing with the half-empty cup in front of him.

Callum sighed. He hadn’t been expecting to ever have any difficulty getting Mick to talk. Had it been Maxi, Callum would have been prepared for everything short of jumping out of the window just to not talk about feelings. But  _ not Mick _ .

But the German seemed to have come to similar conclusion all by himself, as he straightened up in his chair suddenly, pushing the cup away.

“I can’t believe he did this,” he said. His voice was level. Everything about him was level, actually. Only his eyes gave away all the emotions buzzing inside him. “And he even let her stay the night.”

Callum could have said something about Mick maybe misreading the situation. But was there really any other way to understand that? Maybe Charles just let girls stay over in his room  _ platonically _ ? Callum didn’t really buy that himself and he would never expect Mick to either.

“I know he’s not really my boyfriend,” Mick muttered, deflating suddenly. “But I…” he trailed off, shrugging and hiding his face in his hands. 

Callum sighed, pulling the chair halfway around the round table to sit next to Mick. He put his arm around the German, squeezing his shoulder. There was that feeling of guilt again. It reminded him of his own shortcomings. The need to talk to Maxi resurfaced, stronger than it had been for months. He pushed it back down, focusing on Mick. 

“You’ll talk to him later,” he said. It sounded almost like a promise. Maybe it was. Callum would make sure the two of them did talk, no matter what it took. If he had to lock them up in a broom closet, so be it. 

“I’m upset,” Mick exclaimed suddenly, probably louder than he had meant to, slamming his hands onto the table, palms down. “Do I even have the right to be upset about this? Charles is free to do whatever he wants, I shouldn’t care.”

Callum stared at him, not knowing what that sensation in his chest was. “You know, you sound just like-”

“Oh my God, you’re right,” Mick agreed with wide eyes, even before Callum could finish the thought. “I’ll shut up now,” he added with a small laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. It sounded genuine enough and Callum felt better, knowing Mick wasn’t about to have a breakdown.

There was an idea forming in the back of his mind but he wasn’t sure if that was the right way to go. He did believe that Mick truly wanted to talk to Charles. He just wasn’t convinced he wouldn’t simply back out, because he knew how it was, he’d experienced it first-hand. He had promised himself so many times that would be the day he would tell Maxi the whole truth. And then he’d see Maxi being so innocently happy so… so  _ in love _ with him… and he just couldn’t force the words out of where they seemed to be stuck somewhere around his chest, crushingly heavy and constantly there. That was what guilt felt like and Callum would do anything he could never to experience it again. 

Not that Mick had anything to feel guilty about. But Charles did. And neither would find their peace of mind unless they sat down and had a proper talk. Which sounded pretty straightforward but Callum knew that putting it into practice would be about as easy as convincing a wild tiger to act like a harmless pet. 

“Let’s make a deal,” Callum suggested suddenly, before he could give himself enough time to change his mind.

Mick frowned at him, cocking his head to the side. “What deal?” He asked after a while after Callum hadn’t added anything more. 

“I’ll talk to Maxi but you have to talk to Charles too.”

The expression on Mick’s face could be best described as a cross between surprise, amusement and suspicion. Callum was expecting him to burst out laughing but he didn’t. He just stared at him, seemingly considering the suggestion. 

Callum extended his hand towards Mick over the table. Mick hesitated for a second longer before shaking it. “It’s a deal.”

 

#

 

Mick refused to think about what had happened earlier that day. He didn’t even want to draw any conclusions before he had the opportunity to talk to Charles. Though that was easier said than done. What was he supposed to think about a girl coming out of Charles’s room, in last night’s clothes, after Charles had not so subtly made Mick room with Callum the previous evening? 

But that was something he was determined to worry about later. First, he wanted to enjoy the day and the city. He had never been in Paris before, with any luck it would be enough to get his mind off Charles’s sudden madness. Not that he was planning to avoid Charles until they had a chance to talk. He even sent him a text (thankful that Callum limited himself to one worried glance before nodding eagerly), asking if he’d like to join the two of them. Half an hour later, Charles finally replied with a  _ “sleeping, see you later” _ . 

Mick had suspected Charles might get drunk and, as it seemed, he wasn’t that far off. Not that it was any major discovery. Charles liked  _ having fun _ which, to Mick’s exasperation, often meant alcohol and loud music and sex and he would really rather not know what else. Ignoring the annoyance bubbling back up from where it had settled at the bottom of his stomach, Mick shoved the phone into his jeans pocket. The forced smile he shot at Callum quickly became genuine and he took a deep breath, feeling his muscles loosen up.

It was nice. Mick was painfully aware of Charles’s absence at first but Callum did a great job at taking his mind off it. Soon they were both laughing loudly, as they tried to remember any French they had ever had the chance to learn, which quickly turned into shouting gibberish in an exaggerated French accent. They strolled along the streets, taking in the displays in shop windows and the people around them. There was something about Paris that set it apart from other cities Mick had visited. He couldn’t say he loved it. But he felt drawn to the idea of it all. In his mind, Paris was the image of France. He didn’t think it was true but as he gazed up at the Eiffel Tower or walked towards the triumphal arch, he felt like he was on a postcard or in one of those artsy black and white movies he never saw the appeal of.

Callum either forgot about what had happened or he was just really good at pretending he did. Whichever it was, Mick was grateful. He didn’t think he’d be able to handle worried glances shot in his direction or just generally acting like he was made of glass. He wasn’t exactly  _ fine _ but the world wasn’t ending. Whatever happened, he could get through this. It was nice that Callum trusted him to do exactly that.

It was already late in the evening when Charles greeted them outside the hotel with a big yawn. He had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was a bit of a mess but Mick had seen him look much worse. He thought he caught Charles giving Callum a weird look but decided it must have been his imagination.

They walked down the street in silence, Callum several steps ahead of the two of them to give them some privacy. Mick watched Charles who kept his eyes fixed on the ground, refusing to look anywhere else. He was so… downbeat and disheartened… As if he hadn’t just spent the whole night partying it up God knows where with God knows whom. It wasn’t the hangover. Mick had seen Charles at his worst, wasted to the point of practically passing out. But he had never seen him wear  _ that _ look before. It was similar to the one he had been seeing on Maxi those past few months. And it looked just as out of place.

All of Mick’s annoyance suddenly just dissipated like that, replaced by worry. There was something more going on, he knew that. If Charles just let himself look so miserable and made no effort to even  _ try _ to pretend everything was great and amazing and he was having the time of his life… Well, it had never happened before. Not when they were alone. Certainly not with other people around. Charles just didn’t do that. It was as if sadness didn’t exist in his world and everything would explode if he let himself be anything but ecstatic. 

Mick was afraid he was secretly paying for that. It can’t have been healthy to keep everything bottled up like that. There must have been something Charles did to relieve the tension. Mick hoped it was the parties and neverending alcohol, rather than something worse.

He put a tentative hand on the small of Charles’s back. It made Charles finally look at him and, as soon as he did, Mick wished he hadn’t. There was fire in his eyes but not the kind Mick saw when they were together. Actually, he didn’t think he had ever seen Charles looking like that. It was almost as if Charles hated him, though Mick had done nothing wrong. If anyone should have been mad, then him. 

His hand remained hanging in the air for several long seconds after Charles had quickened his step, so that Mick wouldn’t be touching him anymore.

The dinner was… tense. Pretty much the second his butt touched the chair, Charles disappeared behind the menu without a word. Callum looked at Mick questioningly and Mick would have loved to give him an answer. But he had none, so he could just shrug, sure his face was the very definition of bafflement in that moment.

Charles didn’t even budge when Antonio appeared. Mick was relieved to see Callum getting up to wrap the Italian in a warm hug. After everything that had happened, he was afraid Callum might be holding a grudge. He felt ashamed at having thought something like that. He should have trusted Callum to be more mature than that. 

Pity Mick couldn’t say the same about Charles who seemed to be…  _ sulking _ almost. And for no obvious reason too. He adored the guy, really. But sometimes he just wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him as if that would get some sense into him. Paired with the ever-growing worry he was feeling, it was extremely frustrating and he couldn’t tell anymore what he wanted - to get Charles alone so they could talk or to just leave him there because his patience  _ did _ have its limits, even for Charles.

Antonio sat down between Callum and Charles, but not before reaching across the table to shake Mick’s hand.

“Mick, right?” He asked. “I was hoping we’d meet again.”

Mick smiled. “Me too,” he admitted truthfully. Their first and only meeting was rather brief and had some… interesting consequences. Not for Mick personally, of course, but whatever affected Maxi, affected him too, albeit indirectly. With that said, he was happy to see Antonio again. They didn’t really get a chance to talk all that much but he seemed like a nice guy.

But the one thing that really stood out to Mick had to do with how his hair was immaculate and there wasn’t even one wrinkle on his clothes. He looked nothing like someone who had spent the whole night partying. It was a contrast to Charles who was sitting on his left, arms crossed on his chest and glaring at the table as if it was the reason for his shitty mood. He had been forced to give his menu up to a waiter but without it he still refused to engage in the conversation. 

Antonio raised an eyebrow, eyeing Charles curiously. Then he shrugged, as if there was nothing he hadn’t been expecting to see. Like it was the perfectly normal behaviour. He didn’t even bat an eyelash, while Mick, as the dinner went on, found it increasingly difficult to stop himself from kicking Charles in the shin.

He must have tuned out for a second, wondering if getting Charles away from there would be worth the argument which would certainly follow, because he suddenly realised Callum was talking about going to Spain and how he was happy they made this stop in Paris because he’d missed Antonio.

“Want to come with us?” He asked when Antonio told them how fun they must have been having.

_ Right _ , Mick thought bitterly, glancing at Charles who was glaring at his own empty plate,  _ fun _ .

Antonio grinned brightly but shook his head. “I’m actually about to leave for England.”

“England?” Mick asked, tearing his eyes away from Charles to join the conversation.

Antonio glanced at him, then he turned to Callum and hesitated. “Em invited me,” he said quietly. It was a response to Mick’s question but Antonio kept his eyes fixed on the Brit.

Callum eyebrows rose for a split second but then he grinned. “That’s great,” he exclaimed.

Antonio’s shoulders slumped as he relaxed back against the chair. “You really think so?”

“Of course!”

“Guys, hold up,” Mick said, having decided that there was something deeper going on there than a simple exchange of pleasantries. “Who’s Em?”

“Callum’s girlfriend,” Antonio said.

Callum laughed. “ _ Ex _ -girlfriend,” he corrected.

_ Oh… _

At least Mick knew the name of the girl who unwittingly and indirectly fucked up Maxi and Callum’s… well, it wasn’t quite a relationship, was it?

“I think I’ll head back to the hotel,” Charles announced suddenly, still refusing to look at any of them. “I’m not feeling that great.”

Mick hesitated for a moment, watching Charles disappear down the crowded street. It was Callum’s insistent glare that finally forced him to  jump out of his chair with a hurried  _ “bye” _ . 

He caught up with him so quickly, it was almost as if Charles had been hoping Mick would follow him. Or maybe he really was feeling so shitty he didn’t have the strength to avoid him. Mick really wished it was the former, for more than one reason. He put his hand on Charles’s arm and matched their step. His heart slowed down a fraction when Charles didn’t immediately pull away from his touch.

“What’s wrong?” He asked. He knew such direct questions were no good with Charles but he hardly could play mind games when he had no clue whatsoever what the problem was. He didn’t really have the time. He needed answers and quickly.

Charles just shrugged. All the anger seemed to have left him and he just looked pitifully sad and exhausted. The expected outburst never came. “Come with me?” He asked instead, looking somewhere over Mick’s shoulder.

The walk to Charles’s room was silent. Mick held his breath as the door opened and they stepped inside. He wasn’t sure what exactly he had been expecting to see but it was… normal. Maybe a bit too neat for Charles but otherwise there was nothing suspicious. 

He had been meaning to force Charles to talk if he had to. But he looked so heartbreakingly sad and… vulnerable almost. Mick didn’t have the heart to force him to do anything, not as he watched him wrap the blankets around himself tightly and curl up into a ball. He wanted to pull him to his chest and make sure nothing could ever hurt him again. The problem was, Charles never gave off the impression of wanting Mick to… to what? To love him?

He felt mildly sick when he lay down on Charles’s bed, wrapping his arms around him from behind. Charles turned around immediately, pressing his forehead to Mick’s chest, his breath shaky and his body trembling slightly. Mick wanted to keep his mind on Charles and not think about anything else but it was impossible. 

Charles had fucked some girl, right there on that bed. Less than twenty-four hours earlier. And now he was holding onto Mick like he never wanted to let him go, pressing little kisses to his neck and almost crying. Mick knew he had no real right to be angry about it, he and Charles weren’t together, but he also knew that what he was feeling was jealousy. Which was still overshadowed by worry and anger. There was no denying that something was wrong and he’d do anything to help Charles. But he didn’t know what it was Charles needed. 

Charles finally fell asleep, about an hour later, surprisingly calm and peaceful like Mick had rarely seen before. He stayed up, rubbing circles on Charles’s back and wondering what the fuck they were even doing. It was killing him. With nothing there to distract him, MIck couldn’t stop himself from  _ thinking _ any longer. About that girl leaving Charles’s room too. But mostly about the two of them. It was like they accidently got themselves into something they didn’t know how to get out of again. Did they even want to? Mick for his part knew he didn’t.

He didn’t try stop his brain when his train of thought moved to the previous night. It might have been a particular kind of masochism, but he wanted to know exactly what had happened. Charles had fucked someone, that thought wouldn’t leave Mick alone for a second. He had touched someone and kissed someone and was inside someone… Maybe he cuddled that girl afterwards, like he always did with Mick. The very act of thinking about all that was making him sick to his stomach and yet he couldn’t stop. It was jealousy, yes, but he knew there was something else to it too. He just couldn’t figure out what it was. Or maybe he didn’t want to figure it out.


	4. The middle of nowhere

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to reread it once more when I get back, because I think I've missed something but can't find it right now.

It wasn’t what Mick would call a restful night. For once he was the one waking up every half an hour, while Charles slept peacefully, cuddled up to Mick’s chest. Mick didn’t exactly envy him - he doubted he could ever envy Charles, the boy was way too important to him for that - but he wished he could at least keep the persistent thoughts out of his head. Always the same, they haunted him even as he closed his eyes. Or maybe _especially_ then. At some point he stopped being able to tell when he was dreaming and when awake. It all blended together until he was no longer sure what was happening.

Charles woke up rather early for him, but maybe not so early after all, considering he had gone to bed before the sun had even set. He looked better. Not quite _fine_ yet but not like he was about to have a complete mental breakdown. More like himself. It was a relief to Mick. If a sleepless night was the price for Charles’s peace of mind, Mick would be more than willing to do it again.

They didn’t get up straight away. The first thing Charles did when he woke up was to shift even closer to Mick and that shouldn’t have even been possible. He pressed a kiss to Mick’s neck and rested his head on Mick’s shoulder, his palm flat against Mick’s sternum. It was so good to feel Charles’s body pressed against him like this. The knowledge that Charles was no longer suffering like he had been the previous day was enough to let Mick finally relax. He didn’t mean to but the tiredness finally got to him and with Charles wrapped around him, Mick’s body didn’t really give him a choice as his eyes closed.

He didn’t know how long he had slept but when he woke up again Charles was standing on the other side of the room, looking out of the window. He had pulled on a pair of jeans, though it must have been unbearably hot outside once again, and had his hands propped on the sill. He wasn’t wearing a shirt and Mick let himself stare at his naked back, even though he knew every crease on Charles’s body, examining the slightly tanned skin. He wanted to run his hands down it, make sure it was as soft as he remembered.

Charles must have felt Mick’s eyes on him because he turned his head to look at him. “Morning,” he muttered. There was a small smile in the corner of his mouth. It was almost shy - unsure - but it was undeniably there. Mick felt himself smile back in relief. There was still something weird in Charles’s eyes, something Mick had never seen before the previous night. It was close to some despair Charles must have been hiding deep inside and which for some reason reappeared. But why now?

Whatever was bothering Charles, Mick knew he had little chance of finding out what it was. A sort of fragile peace had settled between them and Mick didn’t want to do anything which could break it in some way - like starting a huge argument for example. So he decided to keep his mouth shut, at least for the time being, and pretend he hadn’t noticed anything out of ordinary.  

 

***

 

Callum shot him a questioning look when they met him in the hotel lobby some time later. He kept glancing between Charles and Mick but didn’t say anything. It was fun to walk around Paris, the three of them laughing as Charles tried to teach Callum some basic French. Mick could have almost let himself be fooled that everything was back to normal. But then he tried to put his arm around Charles’s shoulders like he often did. It was unusual that Charles immediately stepped away as if he’d been burnt but Mick could just assume it was a coincidence. But after the second and then the third and fourth time it happened, he ran out of explanations other than the most obvious one - Charles didn’t want Mick touching him.

It can’t have been because of the people - it wasn’t like they were in the middle of Russia, nobody gave a fuck about two guys walking a bit too close together. And Charles had done so much more than just hold Mick’s hand back in Monaco where he had actual friends, people who _knew_ him. Callum can’t have been the problem either, Charles had pretty much tried to have sex with him with the Brit no more than two metres away.

Mick didn’t like the way it made him feel. Rejected. And for no obviously apparent reason, too. It stung, especially since Mick still thought he should have been the one being upset and not Charles, but if that was what Charles needed - Mick wouldn’t push. Though he would have loved to finally get something at least _resembling_ an explanation. It didn’t even have to make an actual logical sense. As long as Charles thought it was important, Mick would accept it.

Sometimes he wondered if he let Charles get away with too much but that was a dilemma for another day…

 

***

 

They set off late in the evening, having eaten dinner in one of the small restaurants. It was completely different to the previous evening. The image of Charles laughing as he shoved another forkful of cake into his mouth made Mick’s heart jump happily. Everything would be fine. Everything _was_ fine. And he’d be telling himself that for the rest of his life if he had too.

Charles’s mood seemed to sink a little bit as they got into the car, but that could have been just tiredness. Mick didn’t try to put his hands anywhere near him and he resisted the temptation once more. He didn’t want to be rejected so overtly again. Callum had dozed off in the passenger seat before Mick even had the chance to leave the city. Impressive, even taking into account the traffic in Paris.

There was a black cloud hanging over the horizon, the kind which seemed to swallow the entire sun in a matter of seconds and made the night come several hours too early. Mick regarded it with surprising emotionlessness. Despite his best efforts, he was still worried about Charles, he couldn’t help it. And now that he no longer had him right in front of him, he felt nervous. But as he glanced at the rearview mirror, Charles looked… normal. Sprawled in the backseat, playing with his phone, he didn’t seem to be a ticking bomb anymore. Mick couldn’t tell if it was a good or a bad sign.

After about an hour, he finally decided to stop at a petrol station under the pretense of filling up the tank, when in reality he just needed to get out of there for a moment. He couldn’t remember the last time he had felt so tense for no reason. And the lack of sleep was beginning to get to him, he could feel it in how distracted he was, and in the way his eyes were quickly tearing up from the bright lights of cars coming the other way.

Callum jogged up to him, wrapping his sweatshirt tighter around himself against the cold wind. He put a hand on Mick’s shoulder, eyes full of worry, as he offered to drive for a bit. Mick’s first instinct was to shake his head but that was exactly what he needed - some peace to regain his strength and maybe take a nap. He couldn’t drive for much longer in the state he was in, not without the danger of causing a major collision.

He hesitated for a moment with his fingers barely touching the cool metal of the back door, feeling Charles staring at him. Their eyes met and Mick wished he could tell if Charles was mentally pleading him to get in or go away. In the end, he decided on the former. Charles’s expression didn’t change as Mick got in but he looked almost like he’d stopped breathing. _Mick_ seemed to be making him tense for what must have been the first time in forever. Or maybe Mick just never noticed before?

Glancing out of the window at Callum making his way to pay for the petrol, Mick wondered if he had any chance of getting Charles to tell him what was wrong. Charles, who now had his head turned towards the window, the sleeves of his hoodie pulled down to cover his hands. He looked so pitiful, Mick wanted nothing more than to wrap him up in his arms and press a kiss to his forehead, assuring him that everything would be fine. He risked reaching out to brush his fingers against Charles’s leg, feeling him stiffen up for a painfully long second before relaxing a little under his touch.

He slid across the seat until his side was pressed against Charles’s. There was no reaction for a moment but then Charles sighed heavily and turned around to curl up around Mick. He pressed his lips to Mick’s neck and murmured a “ _sorry_ ”, so quiet Mick wasn’t convinced he hadn’t imagined it.

“Charles, come on,” he pleaded, “talk to me.”

Charles glanced at him, bottom lip wobbling like he was about to start crying. “I really don’t want to,” he whispered. “Not now.”

There was a promise of _later_ somewhere in there and it terrified Mick even more. He couldn’t explain it. He just knew that, if Charles really was going to want to talk about it, it must have been serious. For now, he pushed the thought away, he pushed all thoughts away, letting his mind go blank, as he ran his fingers through Charles’s hair, pulling his body closer and taking most of his weight.

 

***

 

The weather kept getting worse as they drove on. The first tiny raindrops hit the windshield no more than ten minutes after they set off. Mick heard the thunder somewhere in the distance as the rain intensified. He turned away from the window to steal a glance at Charles. They hadn’t even looked at each other since Callum got into the car. Mick couldn’t tell if Charles was trying to pretend he didn’t exist or just lost in his thoughts. He felt Charles tense when Mick’s fingertips brushed his thigh. But then he took Mick’s hand, still not looking at him, but it was something.

Callum flipped the fog lights on and Mick wouldn’t have noticed, had he not seen the control on the dashboard light up. The visibility was so poor, it was impossible to see the bonnet, let alone another car. Mick decided it was high time they stopped, wondering if it was the fear of having accident or rather the way Charles was jumping a bit in his seat each time the lighting struck. They couldn’t see the signs, let alone read what was written on them, so Callum just took some exit to get off the motorway where they hoped to find someplace to stay. Or at least a parking where they could wait out the storm.

Callum pulled up outside an old building. Mick could just make out the flashing neon letters, telling them they’d arrived at a hotel. The parking was pretty much empty, save for their car and two others. But then, the hotel didn’t look very inviting with the paint peeling off the walls and a missing pane in one of the windows. At least, there was a lantern outside, bright enough for them to see something.

“Anybody else thinking about Hitchcock?” Callum asked, squinting at the building which seemed to be falling apart.

Mick widened his eyes at him. “Don’t say that,” he exclaimed. He regarded the building for a while. “Besides, I think it looks more the kind where they charge by the hour.”

Callum shrugged. “Not like we have a choice either way.” He glanced back at them and shrugged. “It was nice meeting you guys,” he said, throwing the car keys at Mick, before pushing his door open. He struggled against the strong wind but finally succeeded, propping his feet on the wet ground. From what Mick could see, he was soaked even before he managed to fully get out.

Charles was staring at him and Mick just shrugged. It was a reflex when he leant in to kiss Charles. He didn’t have time to freak out before Charles cupped his cheek and deepened the kiss. Mick smiled at him softly, pressing his lips to his forehead for a second before following Callum out.

The inside didn’t look any better. Maybe not so bad that Mick was expecting to find dead bodies on his way up but he didn’t think he was that far off when he’d guessed it was the place where you were likely to run into a skimpily-clad girl leaving one of the rooms. Charles did the talking once again and when he came back to where they were standing near the entrance, looking around apprehensively, he handed one key to Callum, fingers of his free hand wrapping around Mick’s forearm. Mick hoped he did a good job of trying to cover up the surprise he felt at the gesture. He didn’t know quite what Charles had in mind but it felt like electric current where their skin touched. Callum got the message and didn’t ask any questions as they all made their way upstairs, having dared the trip outside to get their bags from the car. It can’t have taken for than five minutes but somehow they came back even more soaked than before. And Mick had thought that was impossible since they were dripping so much, a little puddle had formed where they’d been standing by the door as Charles talked to the receptionist.

The room was so small, the double bed took up most of the space. It didn’t look particularly comfortable but it was better than driving by zero visibility. There was no bathroom, other than the shared one outside. It was hardly luxurious but it wasn’t time for complaining anyway. He would just have to try very hard not to think what might have been happening in that bed.

Charles did a good job of distracting him though, making Mick gasp when he felt hands on his hips. He turned his head to stare at Charles questioningly but Charles just shook his head, as if mentally pleading him not to ask any questions. So he didn’t. He knew he just had to trust Charles to know what he was doing as he kissed Mick’s neck, biting at the place where it met his shoulder. It sent a jolt of pleasure straight down to Mick’s crotch and his brain switched off, just like that. If Charles’s intention was to prevent him from trying to talk about things, he had chosen the right tactic.

Mick didn’t even think of resisting when Charles tugged on his T-shirt forcefully, signalling for Mick to take it off. His jeans came off just as quickly. Mick opened his mouth to ask him if he was sure about what he was doing, but Charles pressed their lips together, kissing Mick roughly, his hands squeezing his hips and Mick decided not to ask anything.

Everything about it felt… off. Not bad. Rather unexpected and surprising. It was nothing what having sex with Charles usually meant. Charles liked it slow and gentle. He liked having Mick on top of him, _inside_ him, and holding him close, pressing kisses anywhere he could reach. And whenever he took control, he’d tease Mick mercilessly, make him fall apart with his tongue and fingers, until he was practically begging. Sex with Charles felt very much like making love. It had something to do with Mick’s feeling for him, sure. But it was also just the way it was - the way Charles was. At least with Mick.

There was nothing slow nor gentle about the way Charles was fucking into him roughly, grip bruisingly tight on Mick’s hips. Mick hid his face in the pillow, hoping it would muffle the sounds he was making, embarrassingly loud and almost pleading. It had been ages since the last time Charles fucked him and the first time he had ever been so rough and possessive. It felt _good_ . Mick let himself relax against the covers and just _feel_ Charles inside him, his fingers on his hips and thighs and arse, running down his back before coming back to grab his sides. Even the kisses Charles was pressing down the line of Mick’s spine felt different. _Dirty_ and so fucking good, pleasure sparking wherever Charles’s teeth scraped over the skin. Mick felt like he wouldn’t be able to feel much more but at the same time needed _more_. Like he was losing his mind.

It was over as quickly as it started, Charles falling onto the bed next to him, red-faced and gasping for breath, though nowhere near as much as Mick was. Mick let his fingers trail down Charles’s stomach, lying his palm flat on his abdomen as he tried to gather up enough strength to prop himself up on his elbow and lean over to kiss Charles. In the end, Charles did it for him, rolling over until his stomach touched Mick’s side, and giggling breathlessly as he pressed their lips together. The soft kisses were a stark contrast to the way he was fucking Mick into the mattress just moments earlier.

The sudden change made Mick’s head spin even more than it already had been. He had been meaning to ask Charles what was going on but he didn’t have any more strength left in his body. If Charles’s intent was to distract him, he had succeeded one hundred percent. The moment felt too good, too peaceful, to be broken. Mick couldn’t bring himself to do it, no matter how much he believed that he should have.

He just hoped Charles would be smart enough to tell him if something was really wrong.

 

***

 

Mick didn’t know what time they had fallen asleep - it must have been long before midnight though - but he woke up ridiculously early. The sun was rising lazily, half hidden behind the horizon, and it looked like the storm had gone by. Charles shifted against him, pressing his face into the crook of Mick’s neck, and Mick was suddenly overcome by a wave of emotions. There was fondness there but also something much stronger. He didn’t know if he wanted to put a name to it just yet.

Shaking his head to get the thought out of his mind, Mick ran his hands up Charles’s sides gently, smiling at the feeling of soft skin beneath his palms. He had missed this. It hadn’t been that long, he knew that. But with everything going on, it could have as well been years since the last time he got to hold Charles like that. He wanted to be able to do that forever.

Charles woke up not long after him, leaning up to press lazy kisses to Mick’s lips. It could have gone further - it was early and they were both young, it was basic biology - but neither of them pushed for more. Mick still felt amazingly spent and relaxed after the night before. All he wanted was to be able to hold Charles close like this and enjoy the moment before it would have to end and they’d go back outside. Mick didn’t usually mind all that much but he didn’t know what to expect anymore. Charles had been acting strange and it was impossible to predict what he’d do next.

Callum came knocking on their door at half past seven, begging them to leave, because he felt like someone was about to “jump out and murder him on the spot”. Mick stood in the doorframe, boxers just barely covering anything, as Charles laughed in the background, the sheet Mick had tossed across his hips threatening to slide aside at any moment. From the startled look in Callum’s eyes, Mick assumed he was about to run out of there and wait for them in the car, or maybe locked up in his own room, but he stood there, squaring his shoulders and determinedly staring at Mick’s face, never letting his eyes wander anywhere else.

The sky had cleared up considerably, as Mick noted with a wide smile. The only hint that there had even been a storm was the distinct fresh smell of wet soil in the air. Mick took a deep breath, trying to remember the last time he had felt so relaxed. He made a beeline for the driver’s door but Callum caught up with him halfway there, his grip strong on Mick’s shoulder. Mick didn’t know if it was because of Charles or because he just felt like driving but Mick wasn’t going to argue either way.

Charles gave him a warm smile, as he put his hand on top of Mick’s in the middle of the backseat, and it was all so normal, like nothing had ever happened. Mick would have thought he had imagined everything. But he was reminded of the bruises forming on his hips each time the rough denim of his jeans shifted and he felt slightly sore from how hard Charles had fucked him. He can’t have imagined it. It was all true - the girl, Charles’s strange behaviour, the night before…

Mick just didn’t know what to make of all that yet. And he didn’t want to think about it in that moment.

 

***

 

They didn’t drive very long - no more than half an hour - before Callum stopped by some restaurant, announcing that he would go no further until they’d all eaten something. Not that either one of them was going to protest. Having skipped breakfast, Mick was sure he can’t have been the only one who was starving. So they climbed out of the car, Callum pocketing the keys before Mick could say something, and made their way inside. It was surprisingly crowded, considering the hour, but they managed to find an empty table in the corner. And then it got weird.

It started with Charles inching his chair closer to Mick’s, who didn’t even notice until he felt Charles’s knee bump against his own. Mick threw him a questioning glance but Charles wasn’t even looking his way, so he decided to shrug it off. Several minutes of peace followed and Mick made the mistake of relaxing against the back of the chair, letting Callum pull him into an easy chat about what it was like to study in Germany. Which was why he wasn’t prepared to feel the hand landing on his thigh. He widened his eyes but Callum didn’t seem to have noticed anything strange. It was the only thing stopping Mick from straight out demanding to know what the fuck was going on with Charles.

He was a rather moody person in general, sure. But there was moody and then there was going from one extreme to the other in a matter of twenty-four hours with no predictable pattern to it. Mick almost choked on his own spit when Charles started sliding his hand up and down his leg, fingers digging into Mick’s flesh. He was sure his face was burning up. The way Callum cocked his head to the side and regarded him through narrowed eyes confirmed that suspicion. But then he glanced over at Charles and a knowing smirk appeared on his lips. He winked at Mick and resumed their conversation as if everything was perfectly fine and nothing strange was going on.

After five minutes, Mick couldn’t take it anymore. Practically jumping up from his chair, he hurriedly excused himself and made his way to the bathroom. It was thankfully empty so he could take his time splashing cool water on his red face and trying to convince his blood to start circulating through his whole body once more. Before he could have managed to calm down though, the door opened again and Charles strolled inside with a wide smile. It wasn’t the _I know exactly what I’m doing to you_ kind. It was the gentle, innocently happy one. Mick could feel his heart melt.

Especially when Charles came up to push him back against the line of sinks hanging on the wall, his hands on Mick’s hips, and pressed their lips together before pulling away, still close enough for their lips to brush when Mick spoke up.

“What’s got into you?” He asked, wrapping his fingers around Charles’s forearm.

He only got a shrug and another kiss in reply, Charles gripping his hips tighter and pulling them forwards, against his own. “I want you,” he muttered, resting his forehead against Mick’s.

Mick inhaled sharply, squeezing Charles’s arm as he felt some more blood rush downwards. “Don’t say that here,” he said, laughing.

“It’s true,” Charles insisted. As if Mick could doubt that with Charles’s hips pressed against his own. He could _feel_ it even without Charles saying anything.

He wanted to remind him that they’d had sex the day before but then there were voices just outside the door, making Charles pull away. Mick took the opportunity to regain his ability to think logically, running a hand through his hair self-consciously. Charles sent him a warm smile and suddenly Mick couldn’t have felt insecure even if he tried. Not with the way Charles was looking at him.

“That was quick,” Callum muttered when they joined him in the car. Mick shifted forward to hit his arm half-heartedly, prompting a laugh out of the Brit.

Charles stayed away for all of five minutes before leaning over and pressing kisses up the side of Mick’s neck. Callum kept his eyes determinedly fixed on the road but Mick didn’t miss the way the corners of his mouth twitched. He wondered, not for the first time, what it would have been like had Maxi come with them too. He almost felt guilty for being so affectionate and… well, in love, there really was no other way to put it… around Callum. Not that he ever complained or even showed that he minded in any way.

As Charles’s hand slid under Mick’s T-shirt, his fingertips teasing over Mick’s abs, Mick was torn between stopping this and pulling him closer. In the end, he didn’t have to decide - Charles kept his fingers still, palm flat against the skin of Mick’s stomach and didn’t try to take things any further. He only kissed Mick once, biting at his bottom lip playfully, then pulled away to rest his head against Mick’s. His hand hadn’t moved from under Mick’s T-shirt but the gesture was almost… comforting rather than sexual.

Mick didn’t know what to make of the sudden changes - from ignoring him, through fucking him so hard, Mick could still feel it the next day, to being all loving and gentle… There was no simple way to explain it. Not even Charles was _this_ random and unpredictable. But there also was no way to make him talk, least of all with Callum right there. So Mick settled for resting his hand on Charles’s thigh and pressing a kiss to his cheek, before leaning his head back against the seat and closing his eyes.

 

***

 

“I’ve missed you so much.”

Mick thought that Charles had been said those words a lot lately. Not that he was getting tired of hearing that. There were some things you could never stop yearning to hear over and over again, no matter how many times they’d been said. It was just a bit strange and unsettling in a way Mick couldn’t quite put his finger on.

He had been sitting there, propped up against the bonnet of his car, when Charles came up to him. He stepped closer, as close as he could, Mick’s legs between his, and wrapped his arms around Mick’s shoulders, leaning in for a kiss. Callum was just in the bathroom, would come back any moment, and there was some elderly couple getting out of the car next to theirs, and some kids were running around, making lots of noise, and Charles didn’t seem to give a fuck. Like it was natural. Like it was something they did. Like their “relationship” hadn’t been confined to their flats until a week or so ago.

Mick wondered if maybe he should have been angry with himself for trying to push away the concern he was feeling. But was it really so bad that he wanted to enjoy it for a bit? There were so many things that could go wrong if he tried to prod into what was actually happening. Not that he was naive enough to believe everything would be perfect if he just ignored it. But he had deserved a moment of happiness. He was human, there was only so much self-control he could possess. Just a day - two at most - and he’d talk to Charles. But not yet, it was too soon. If he was going to lose this, he wanted to enjoy it as long as he could.

He pulled Charles closer by the hips and pressed their lips together again. He was expecting Charles to deepen the kiss or for his hands to wander down to Mick’s arse or crotch. But Charles just kept kissing him, gently like never before, and clinging onto him as if he was afraid Mick would just disappear if he let go for one second. It was almost disconcerting, like something was seriously wrong. But at the same time it was as amazing as any kiss Charles had given him had been. Better even, because there was no underlying _need_ to get off. They were just kissing for the sake of it, not expecting it to lead to something more.

Charles broke the kiss to rest his forehead against Mick’s, eyes closed and breath shaky. Over his shoulder, Mick saw Callum politely looking the other way, hands in pockets, and rocking on the balls of his feet. As much as he didn’t want to, Mick knew they should be going if they ever wanted to get to the border at the very least before night. So he pressed one more brief kiss to Charles’s lips and forced himself to pull away.

He was determined to finally drive for a bit, since Callum had been doing that since morning. He saw Callum hesitate but, in the end, he didn’t stop him. Charles sent Mick a smile as he climbed into the backseat, Mick couldn’t help subconsciously searching for a sign that there was something more going on beneath the surface, something wrong, but he found none. Callum reached for the passenger’s door, then seemingly had a change of heart. Mick saw the (pleasantly?) surprised look in Charles’s eyes when Callum sat down next to him.

“Feel like playing cards?” He asked, fastening his seatbelt as Mick pushed the key into the ignition. “If the traffic is anything like it seemed to be, we’re gonna have a lot of time to kill.”

 

***

 

The traffic was _exactly_ like it had seemed to be. Maybe worse. Mick doubted the pointer on his speedometer moved past forty more than twice. And it’s been half an hour since they’d set off.

Charles and Callum didn’t seem to mind very much. They were laughing in the backseat, playing what Mick understood to be an _improved_ version of poker, and talking over each other. Mick was glad that they were back to getting along. But he would have appreciated it even more, had they not been stuck in a never-ending traffic jam.

Some people had gone out of their cars and were sitting beside the motorway, having lunch or just talking with each other. The long line of cars hadn’t moved in fifteen minutes. Mick assumed there must have been an accident but it was difficult to tell. The radio might have been on, but with him not speaking French, it really didn’t change anything. And Charles was too preoccupied to bother listening to the news, let alone translating it to Mick.

Tearing his eyes away from some two girls who had taken off their tops and were putting suncream on each others back, Mick heard snippets of conversation. Promptly, his whole attention was directed at Charles and Callum. He’d finally come to terms with the traffic not budging anytime soon and turned off the engine. He didn’t move in his seat, choosing to stare at his friends in the mirror instead. They weren’t paying him any attention and it made him feel a bit like he was eavesdropping on something private, even though he knew it wasn’t the case.

“You mean you two were actually together?” Charles asked, staring at Callum with his head cocked to the side. They had both undone their seatbelts and were sitting facing each other. Mick didn’t need to know what they’d been talking about before to guess  who Charles meant. He wondered if he should have felt guilt about not having told him about Maxi and Callum but he found none. Not when he remembered Maxi breaking down on their couch, dark circles under his bloodshot eyes and how he had clung on to Mick for hours, crying into his T-shirt. He didn’t think Maxi would have appreciated him telling Charles. And Mick didn’t feel like he could have told only half the story. So he chose the lesser evil and pretended not to know anything.

Callum hesitated. “Not quite,” he said slowly.

“You had sex?”

“Yep.”

“And you like him.” It wasn’t a question. Charles waited for Callum’s nod anyway. “Then why aren’t you together? Or are you?” He added quickly, eyes wide.

 _Good question_ , Mick thought. He wondered, not without some bitterness, what Charles would say if he asked him the same in relation to the two of them. _Why aren’t_ we _together?_

Callum laughed, stroking the back of his neck. “We’re not,” he assured Charles. Mick heard the implied _unfortunately_. “I was still with Em.”

Charles made a long _oh_ sound, nodding his head. He patted Callum on the thigh sympathetically.

“I thought Mick has told you,” Callum added.

Charles shrugged. Neither of them turned to look at Mick or asked him anything. Mick took it as his cue to look away, pretending he hadn’t been listening. He didn’t feel like explaining his reasoning. He still thought he’d done the right thing, not telling Charles about it. Not wanting to hear any more, he turned the key once, taking a deep breath as the radio started playing some loud song with such deep bass Mick could feel it in his chest. He turned the volume up for a good measure, looking out of the window.

The girls had stretched out with their hands propped up on the ground behind their backs, muscles in their stomachs flexing. They were both so very pretty. One of them winked at him with a smile when she saw him watching them. He averted his eyes guiltily, cheeks reddening. But then he found himself glancing back, almost against his will. He wondered if he’d want to fuck them if they let him. If that girl motioned for him to join them, would he? Or if they were somewhere else, not in the middle of the crowded motorway but somewhere secluded… say a hotel.

If she came up to him there and invited him up to her room, what would he have done? He tried to imagine himself taking off her bra and caressing her breasts. He could have happily gone down on her, teased her until she was wet and open, and then fucked her, fingers digging into her thighs. It wasn’t an unpleasant thought - far from it. It even made certain parts of his body tingle but it wasn’t even close to the way Charles could make him feel with nothing but a mere look.

He sighed heavily and leaned back in his seat, running his hands down his face. He had a feeling it was going to be a very long day.  Especially since there was only one conclusion he could draw from all his musings.

He was totally fucked and done for.


	5. Barcelona

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sooo sorry. I meant to update last week but I've got way more stuff to do than I was expecting. And my laptop has been working on and off for some reason. Anyways, this chapter feels a bit so-so but I don't want to put off posting it any longer, especially as I have hardly any time to work on it.

Callum sighed for what must have been the hundredth time in the last hour. It seemed like the day would never end. He had almost made Mick pull off and swap places with him because he felt like he was about to go mad, just sitting there. Charles did a decent job of entertaining him all the way to the Spanish border. But there was no pretending that it didn’t take them ages to get there, first with an accident somewhere on the motorway which stopped the traffic for a very long time, Callum didn’t know exactly how long, he didn’t bother checking anymore after the first hour had passed. But even after that had been cleared up, they didn’t really make huge progress because of the amount of cars on the road.

All that meant that, when they finally passed the sign informing them they had entered Spain, it was well past midnight. Charles had dozed off next to him, but Callum couldn’t sleep. It was unusual for him, to say the least. Most of the time he had no trouble falling asleep in the weirdest of places, like that one time his friends had to wake him up forcefully at the end of some party after he had dozed off on the couch, oblivious to the deafeningly loud music and people doing unspeakable things around him. It must have been no more than two years earlier at most but it felt like a lifetime. In a way Callum supposed it was. 

He was a completely different person to the one he had been back then. Fuck, he was completely different to how he had been a mere year earlier. A lot had happened. The kind of things that change people. He wasn’t aware of it at first but he was noticing it now. Maybe he had known it from the start but could just ignore it because it felt good. Until he landed back in England and walked into the bedroom he’d slept in for two decades only to feel like he was a stranger in his own house.

And then his friends called, convinced him to go out and of course he agreed, he hadn’t seen them in months. But that was all wrong too. They laughed at different jokes and didn’t understand what he meant when he talked about that song by Joris he’d been listening to on repeat for weeks. And they asked him a million questions he’d give everything in the world not to answer. Mostly about Em. It took him an hour before they even believed he had broken up with her. Because why the hell would you leave a girl you’d been with for six years and whom you loved? 

Not that he didn’t. He did, very much, and he didn’t think he’d ever stop. Just… not like that. Not like he used to in that other lifetime. She understood. They couldn’t. Callum felt like they had his whole life planned and couldn’t forgive him for suddenly shattering those impressions they had of him. It was unfair, they cared and worried about him, but he was sick of it all. It wasn’t a friendly chat after not having seen one another for months. It was a fucking interrogation where Callum had to give all the right answers and no matter how many times he tried to steer the conversation in another direction, they always ended up coming back to the same place.

So he clamped up. He didn’t think he’d ever done that before but nothing about the situation felt normal. He answered their questions - mechanically and curtly, careful not to give too much away. He didn’t tell them about Maxi. He didn’t tell them about Mick either, or Charles. He talked about his job and that nice girl he had worked with, who always helped him when he had a problem, because he knew that would please them and get them off his back. He was just so exhausted and it felt like he was closed in a tiny dark room with little air.

He didn’t dare calling Em and asking her to meet up with him, even though that might have been exactly what he needed. It was too early for that.

He went out on his own two days after his return and strolled down the streets, wondering what he should be feeling. Something else, he was sure of it, not the emptiness and apathy that he was. It didn’t feel like home even though it was. It would always be. He was born there and he grew up there. His parents were there and some very happy memories were there too… It was just that his  _ heart _ wasn’t quite there. He missed Maxi more than anything but he also missed Germany. It might not have been his home in any sense of the word, especially not with Maxi not even talking to him, but it meant the world to him. He felt like he had two lives - each connected to a different personality and hobbies and friends… 

He was desperate to find a way out of this hopeless situation and he knew the first step would be reaching out to Maxi. And if Maxi rejected him… the life wouldn’t be over, he wasn’t quite dramatic enough to even think that… But it  _ would _ take an extremely long time before Callum would relearn everything. That world which now felt so foreign even though he knew every corner on every street by heart. And he knew he was the only one to blame for having brought that onto himself. 

Charles shifted next to him, startling Callum out of his thoughts. He stared at the curled up form for a long time, trying to get his thoughts back on the right track. The radio was off and it was very dark around. He doubted they were on the motorway anymore. Maybe he had fallen asleep after all? With a sigh, he picked up his sweatshirt from where it was lying on the seat between them and wrapped it around Charles’s shoulders.

When he raised his eyes, they met Mick’s in the rearview mirror. 

“Okay?” He asked, looking back out at the road. “You seem… I don’t know… out of it.”

Callum bit his lip and glanced out of the window. “Just thinking,” he answered after a long moment.

To his relief, Mick just nodded. Whether he believed him or not - Callum couldn’t tell. 

“Is Charles sleeping?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s good,” Mick said with a soft smile. “Don’t wake him.”

“I won’t.”

He was suddenly struck with indescribable fondness. For Mick and for Charles and for that other life with Maxi in it and people chatting in that strange language, which he thought he’d never learn, as they walked down the street beneath the bedroom window when he tried to sleep. Maxi’s even breath against his skin and his arm wrapped protectively around his stomach added to the beauty of it but even without them… 

“Mick?” He tried softly.

Mick made a humming sound, prompting him to go on. So Callum shifted forward in his seat, the seat belt digging into his chest but he paid it no mind, and lowered his voice even more. Mostly not to wake Charles up, but partly also because he didn’t want him to hear what he was about to say. He wanted Mick’s opinion first and it would be the one he’d trust, beside his own common sense.

“You know how I said earlier that I’ve thought about studying in Germany?”

Surprise flitted across Mick’s face but it disappeared so quickly you would have missed it if you blinked. “Sure.”

Callum swiped his tongue across his lips. “Do you think it’s a good idea?”

It was quiet for a long moment. Callum could have almost thought Mick hadn’t heard him if it wasn’t for the crease between his brows which meant he was concentrating on the question. “Do you want to?” He asked in the end.

“I think so.”

“Then why not?”

Callum looked down, not knowing, or maybe just not  _ wanting _ to answer the question. He heard Mick make an  _ oh _ sound like he’d just figured something out.

“Why do you want to?”  _ Is it because of Maxi? _ had been left unsaid.

“It’s not just Maxi,” Callum assured him. “It’s just…” he hesitated. The words sounded weird even in his own head. Saying them out loud might have been too much. But it was  _ Mick _ for fuck’s sake. Who else could he tell if not him? “Being home feels weird,” he muttered. “Like…”

“Not quite home,” Mick finished for him with a heavy sigh, making Callum look up in surprise. “What would you like to study?”

“No idea. I didn’t even know I was going to drop out until  _ after _ I’ve done it, so…”

Mick laughed and it broke the strange tension which had suddenly appeared out of nowhere. They were both silent for a long while, lost in their own thoughts. 

“Callum?”

“Yeah?”

“Talk to him.”

“Yeah…”

 

***

 

It was the middle of the night when Mick finally stopped the car on what Callum assumed to be the outskirts of Barcelona.

“I can’t keep my eyes open,” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Want to switch?” Callum offered immediately without thinking.

Mick shook his head. “Let’s just stay here for the night. There must be a hotel somewhere around, right?”

There was that tenderness, which always appeared when he was around Charles, in the way he reached back to rub Charles’s leg as he said his name. The way he did it was almost regretful and Callum got the impression Mick had driven on for much longer than his body would have liked to, only to avoid having to wake Charles up. He had to turn his head away towards the window to conceal the smile that had made its way onto his lips. 

It was chilly and Callum couldn’t suppress the shiver as he stepped out of the car. A very sleepy-looking Charles handed him the sweatshirt he’d been using as a blanket back and Callum wasted no time putting it on and doing the zip up all the way to his throat. It didn’t help much, which made him think that maybe it was the tiredness more than the weather. He glanced over at his friends, unprepared for the sudden wave of loneliness that hit him when he noticed Mick’s arms wrapped around Charles and the way Charles just slumped back against him, letting him take most of his weight. Definitely the tiredness, then.

They crossed the street to the slightly run-down hotel but it looked like they wouldn’t find another one for miles. Callum pushed the door open, leaving Mick and Charles outside to get some time alone, and walked into the small lobby. It didn’t look bad, nowhere near as terrifying as their last accomodation, but nothing as luxurious as the hotel in Paris. There was an elderly man sitting at the reception, a newspaper spread across his lap and a cigar hanging out of his mouth and suddenly Callum felt like he’d walked into a bad movie.

He cleared his throat, making the man look up at him with a bored expression on his face.

“Hello, we’d like two rooms,” he said, quickly deciding Mick and Charles would prefer it this way.

The man shook his head. He took the cigar out of his mouth before speaking in a low, scratchy voice. “No hablo ingles.” Then he pushed it back between his lips and returned to reading his newspaper.

Callum blinked at him slowly. “Right… Deutsch?” He tried.

The man shook his head, not even bothering to look up at him. 

“Gotcha,” Callum mumbled, turning on his heel and marching out of there, wanting to get away from the man as quickly as he could.

He found Mick and Charles back by the car. Charles was resting against the bonnet, Mick standing in front of him with his arms wrapped around him firmly. The German was only wearing a thin T-shirt and it Callum a second to figure out that the reason for that was that his sweatshirt was wrapped around Charles’s shoulders, on top of his own which he’d already been wearing.

“Who speaks Spanish?” He asked when Mick raised his eyes and noticed him.

“Maxi does,” Mick replied automatically, making Callum huff a laugh and even Charles, who seemed to still be half-asleep, snickered against Mick’s chest.

“Oh, yes… Let me just call him up out of the blue in the middle of the night and ask to play the interpreter for us.”

Mick was just opening his mouth to say something, when someone called his name. 

“Mick! Let go of your boyfriend for a second. I want to give you a hug.”

Mick widened his eyes almost comically wide before a smile spread on his lips. He snorted, half-turned towards the dark-haired guy who had come up to them. “Juan, none of your hugs last a second.” 

Callum blinked quickly, glancing back to Charles who seemed not only awake but  _ alert _ all of a sudden. He was regarding the scene playing out in front of him through narrowed eyes, nostrils flared, and looking very much like he didn’t know how to react. But Callum didn’t fail to notice the possessive hand which had made its way onto the small of Mick’s back. 

As for Mick, he didn’t bother explaining what was going on. To be fair, he seemed to have forgotten about the two of them. Though he didn’t let Charles out of his arms for a millisecond.  

“What are you doing here anyway?” Mick asked.

The guy - Juan? - shrugged with a grin. Apparently having come to terms with not being able to give Mick a hug, he settled for ruffling his hair affectionately. The hand on Mick’s back moved  _ lower _ , making Callum snort to himself, quickly trying to cover it up with a cough. Not that anyone seemed to remember he existed.

“Could ask you the same,” Juan said with a shrug, detangling his fingers from Mick’s hair (to Charles’s overt relief) but not stepping back. “We’re on holiday.”

_ We? _

Only then did Callum notice another guy, who had kept a few paces behind and was regarding the whole scene with a mildly amused expression. It looked like he was aiming for exasperated and missing by a mile. 

“Jüri,” Mick exclaimed. He unwrapped one of his arms from around Charles and promptly put it back, seemingly not even realising what he was doing. 

Callum took note of the way Mick was focused on the two guys and the brightly red colour Charles’s cheeks were gaining, visible even in the dim moonlight, and quickly decided to interrupt before something could happen. Like a disaster comparable to a small tornado.

“Do you speak Spanish?” He asked, too loudly and too fast, not even bothering to introduce himself.

Suddenly, he had everyone’s eyes on him, bar Charles, who had his fixed on Mick’s face, and he cleared his throat, resisting the urge to fidget.

“Actually,” Mick said, “this is a good point.” He turned his head to look back at Juan. “Could you get us a room in the hotel?”

Juan exchanged glances with Jüri before grinning at Mick. “I can do you one better. How about a whole house?”

 

#

 

Mick knew he’d love the house even before he saw it. If only because there would be an actual bed where he could lie down and finally get some fucking sleep before his body decided that the middle of the street would do just fine. They got the address and the spare key (or maybe not so spare, it kind of belonged to Jüri), before Juan and Jüri disappeared down the street on their way to some club. It was quickly decided Callum would be the one to drive, because Mick didn’t trust himself not to promptly put his car into the nearest lamppost. 

By the time they arrived, and it was merely a ten-minute drive, Mick had to fight with his muscles to get himself out of the car and into the house. It was pretty big - two bedrooms were taken up, which left another two at their disposition and that was no problem, they would have shared anyway. Callum disappeared in one of the rooms with a short “ _ night” _ and then they found themselves alone. 

Their room had a double bed in the middle and Mick wanted nothing more than to lie down and sleep for a week. He had been getting progressively tired for hours but didn’t really want to stop. Charles looked so peaceful like he rarely was. Mick didn’t have the heart to wake me, even at his own expense. But - unsurprisingly - after driving for most of the day, and in a horrific traffic at that, every millimetre of his body was protesting. 

It was with an indescribable relief that he finally pulled his T-shirt up and off and tugged his jeans down. And then he could lie down on the soft mattress and rest his head against the pillow and for the time being that was his idea of heaven. He watched Charles through half-lidded eyes, still feeling the need to make sure he was okay, despite the exhaustion. It was only when Charles slipped under the covers next to him, adjusting the blanket around Mick’s chest, that Mick could let himself relax.

Though it quickly became apparent Charles wasn’t quite the sleepy self he had been when Mick stopped the car next to that hotel. His hand slid down Mick’s bare back as he pressed his lips to Mick’s shoulder.

“Charles,” Mick protested, eyes closed and half-asleep already. “Tomorrow. Now sleep.”

Charles didn’t even try to convince him otherwise, which made Mick wonder if the caresses were supposed to have been sexual in the first place. Mick made a low sound when Charles snuggled up to him, his fingertips drawing shapes on Mick’s skin. He was vaguely aware of Charles mumbling something as he fell asleep, his voice soothing, though it was impossible to make out the words. Had Mick been more alert, he might have wondered if Charles wanted him to hear at all.

 

***

 

Obviously, he was expecting Charles to take him up on that promise but he was  _ not _ expecting him to be so literal about it. Still, he couldn’t say he minded being woken up by Charles kissing down his stomach, his hands pushing Mick’s hips down into the almost too soft mattress. He tangled his fingers in Charles’s hair and bit his lip. He didn’t know how early or late it was but he wanted neither to wake anyone up nor for them to hear them. Though, on the other hand, did he really care all that much? It was difficult to tell, when he was too preoccupied with other things.

Either way, it wasn’t like he was going to stop Charles. He was already almost painfully hard and who in their right mind would say no to sex anyway? With Charles. In the morning. After an extremely long night.

Mick inhaled sharply, mostly because he’d been taken by surprise, when Charles’s lips wrapped around him. This was always good. Maybe not quite as good as getting to be inside Charles, simply because there was something very intimate about seeing the look on Charles’s face as Mick entered him, but when it came to getting off, this was the surest and quickest way to to this. And Charles knew that. He knew everything about Mick, where to touch and what to say to make him come apart. Mick only rarely let himself acknowledge this, because it did some strange things to his insides - never failing to sparkle something between arousal and indescribable tenderness. 

For a moment, Mick believed Charles would let him finish like this, fingers tangled in Charles hair as Charles sucked him off. He should have realised it would have been too simple. He moaned weakly in protest when Charles pulled back at just the right moment to make him feel like he was genuinely going to go mad. He tried to breathe evenly to regain some control over his body as Charles shifted up, knees on either side of Mick’s hips, and leant down to kiss him. Mick made a loud sound,  _ too  _ loud in the stillness of the house at this hour, which the lips pressed to his own didn’t quite muffle, when Charles rocked his hips against him. 

Deciding that he could have some fun too, he ran his fingers down the line of Charles’s spine towards his arse. Charles broke the kiss, panting shakily, as if he had a fair idea what Mick had in mind. There wasn’t much intent behind it, other than to tease Charles a bit, when Mick pressed the tip of his finger against his hole, not pushing past the muscles, just resting there, enjoying the way Charles tensed up against him and tried to rock back. 

“Tonight, yeah?” He asked, staring at Mick with wide eyes.

Mick couldn’t have denied him anything even if he wanted to. And that was one of the last things he’d ever want to deny Charles anyway. So he nodded, no longer able to stop himself when his brain provided him with images of what was going to happen. 

Charles came not long afterwards with a moan which sounded like he hadn’t even tried to suppress it. 

“You know,” Mick said as Charles settled on top of him, apparently not caring if he was too heavy, “sometimes I think you  _ want _ people to hear.”

The lack of answer was more than any words could have ever told him.

 

***

 

Whenever Mick imagined what his favourite morning would look like, it was something close to this. He got a taste of what it was like to actually experience it first-hand back in Monaco and then again now and it was perfect. They were both lying on their sides, legs tangled and hands never leaving each other’s bodies for long, as they talked. Not about anything in particular. Just talking for the sake of it. Charles’s laughing face was all Mick had needed to make his heart beat calmly again. He had forgotten about all the problems, if not forever then at least for one day, and let himself be happy.

Callum knocked on their door around midday with a cheeky “come on, lovebirds, breakfast”. There was the sound of receding footsteps and Mick didn’t know if Callum was trusting them to follow or maybe rather not expecting them to listen at all. Which wasn’t that much of a stretch when Charles made a protesting sound and pressed his lips against Mick’s neck, his hand stroking up Mick’s side. Mick let him do that for a while, it wasn’t like he  _ wanted _ to push him away. But his stomach was rumbling, and he needed food or he wouldn’t be able to think about anything else pretty soon. 

“Do you really have to get dressed?” Charles asked with a pout as Mick was doing up the button on his jeans.

He laughed in reply, unable to resist leaning down to give Charles one more kiss. “Would you rather I had breakfast with the guys stark naked?” He retorted with a wide smile, enjoying the jealousy which flitted across Charles face before he could compose himself. 

Charles sighed heavily, cupping the back of his head and pulling him down to press their lips together again. “Bring me something?” He asked, sinking back against the pillows with a yawn.

“You’re not coming?”

“Gonna take a nap.”

Mick finished getting dressed and, with one more fond smile at Charles who seemed to have already fallen asleep, went downstairs to where he guessed the kitchen was. Finding it wasn’t that difficult. There was a beautiful smell hanging in the air and all Mick had to do was to follow it. He heard loud laughter coming from behind one of the doors and pushed it open to find a strangely heartwarming scene. Jüri and Callum were sitting at the kitchen island, facing each other, two colourful mugs between them. They were talking about something animatedly and laughing and if Mick hadn’t known better, he would have thought they’d been friends for years. Juan had his back to the door as he played around with something on the cooker. One glance to the counter was enough for Mick to conclude that that something was pancakes and suddenly Juan was his favourite person in the whole world.

Callum noticed him first, nodding at him with a smile. He didn’t make a joke or ask why Charles wasn’t with him. He just handed him another cup which had been standing at the edge of the island and motioned towards the empty seat next to him. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were coming down,” he admitted, once Mick made himself comfortable.

Mick shrugged, raising the cup to his lips to sip the hot coffee made just the way he liked it. “I’m starving,” he said, throwing a longing glance at the plate of pancakes. 

Juan laughed loudly at the statement and pointed towards the plate without turning around to look at Mick. “Help yourself.”

“That’s unfair,” Jüri mumbled, crossing his arms on the counter. “You never let  _ me _ eat while you’re cooking.”

“Because if I did, we would never get to actually eat,” Juan retorted quickly. “You’re always hungry.”

Mick smiled to himself, immediately deciding to take Juan up on his offer.

“We’re gonna go out after breakfast,” Callum said. “Wanna join us?”

Mick guessed the offer extended to Charles as well. Charles who was lying naked in their bed and who probably wouldn’t mind spending the whole day like that. Then there was that promise of  _ later _ and of an empty house… Barcelona wasn’t going anywhere, right?

“I think we’ll stay in.” He looked back over his shoulder only to find Callum smirking at him knowingly. 

“We’ll take the  _ long _ route, yeah?” He offered with a wink. 

 

***

 

You wouldn’t have suspected it if you ever heard him sing or saw him dance but Charles was pretty amazing with the piano. Mick had heard him play the guitar once or twice  too, but it was nowhere near as mesmerising. Whenever Charles touched the keys, he turned into a completely different person. It was as if he no longer was aware of his surroundings, and all that counted were the sounds. Mick loved listening to him play, but if he had to choose, he would be perfectly content just to watch instead. There was something beautiful in the look of concentration on Charles’s face and the way he let himself get lost in it. It was reminiscent of the way he got lost in Mick’s caresses, and Mick couldn’t help his mind wandering sometimes.

He must have been one of the few people who knew about Charles’s hidden talent, and maybe the only one who understood how much music really meant to him. So he wasn’t at all surprised to see Charles’s whole face light up at the sight of the piano standing in the living room. His heart sped up as he took in the pink cheeks and bright eyes.

“May I?” Charles asked, turning back to Juan with a hopeful expression. 

Juan shrugged, looking up from his phone. “Sure, go ahead.”

Callum was eyeing Charles with suspicion and Mick couldn’t blame him for that. He must have been expecting something so terrible, his ears would bleed for days. It meant his reaction was all the more comical and Mick doubted he would ever forget the face Callum made when Charles’s fingers touched the keys and what followed was nothing short of beautiful. 

Mick was pleased to find that it was still breathtaking to watch how Charles got lost in the sounds, eyes fixed on the keys in front of him and bottom lip between his teeth. It was a melody Mick had heard before, a thousand times. Though it took him a while to realise why it sounded vaguely familiar. Charles sang that in the shower and when he was making coffee for Mick. He even hummed it when they went for a walk sometimes. But hearing him play it, Mick couldn’t help but be amazed by how wonderful it sounded.

“What was that first song you played?” Mick asked him some time later, when Charles snuggled up to him on the sofa, pressing his lips to Mick’s shoulder. They were in their own bubble, Juan, Jüri and Callum talking in the background, their voices so distant like they were in a different room. Mick wondered if it would be rude to drag Charles upstairs and, in case it was, how much he didn’t care. Though he  _ would _ have to be prepared for the ribbing which would surely follow.

Charles pulled his legs up into Mick’s lap, his fingers running down Mick’s bare arm absent-mindedly. “ _ Je t’aimais, je t’aime et je t’aimerai _ ,” he replied quietly after a long while.

“What does it mean?”

“I loved you, I love you and I’ll love you.”

Mick frowned. It might have been his imagination playing tricks on him but he would have sworn there was something off with Charles’s expression and the tone of his voice. He couldn’t dwell on it long though. A pillow hit his side and he unwillingly turned towards Jüri. 

“I said,  _ we’re going out _ ”.

“Have fun,” Mick told him without missing a beat. Jüri only rolled his eyes at him.

“You’re coming too,” he informed them in a tone he suggested  _ no _ wasn’t an option. “The guys are waiting,” he added before turning on his heel and leaving the room. 

Mick threw a glance at Charles who seemed to be a bit red in the face. Before he could ask about it though, Charles cleared his throat and stood up, tugging the hem of his T-shirt down. “Let’s go,” he said, following Jüri without as much as a glance towards Mick.

 

***

 

The evening started off rather ordinarly - innocently, you could say. They found a club with loud music and lots of alcohol but not too many people. Juan convinced them they should find a booth first, get some drinks to loosen up a bit. So they did. Charles’s thigh was pressed against Mick’s under the table, even though they didn’t need to be sitting this close, and Mick was feeling a bit too hot. He liked parties. He liked dancing and drinking and having fun but not right then. 

Not when the alternative was having Charles all to himself with no one around to interrupt them. They could have been in bed, kissing and talking and laughing… Not that Mick minded  _ that _ much. He hadn’t seen Juan and Jüri in forever and he couldn’t just keep blowing Callum off. Still, he couldn’t help how he felt.

Maybe there was just something in the air. Maybe it was something about Barcelona which was making him feel this way. He’d been needing Charles closer than before ever since they got there. Or maybe not quite. The longer he thought about, the clearer it became that this need had began earlier than that, perhaps before they even left Monaco.

The first round was on Juan. Mick sipped on his Coke, watching Charles down his glass of something fruity with lots of vodka in it in one go. He could tell what kind of night it was going to be and his stomach sank. He couldn’t convince his muscles to untense. Not even when Charles grabbed his hand and dragged him to the dance floor. Charles’s hips against his own felt amazing and Mick couldn’t keep his hands off his body… But it didn’t make him distracted enough to forget himself. 

He wasn’t even all that surprised when he returned from the bathroom to find Charles leaning against the bar, one arm around some girl as he smiled at her flirtatiously. Hurt, yes. But not surprised. 

“What’s wrong?” Callum asked when he saw his face.

Mick shrugged, slumping next to him in the booth. “I don’t know,” he replied truthfully. “May I?” He asked, reaching for Callum’s beer. 

Callum shot him a look through narrowed eyes but then nodded with a sigh. “Just… be careful.”

“I don’t want to get drunk,” Mick assured him. It was enough that Charles would probably have to be carried out of there.

Mick tried to keep an eye on him, but Charles had somehow managed to get lost between what few people were there. Whether that was intentional or not didn’t particularly matter. He reappeared two hours later, barely able to stand on his own, and giggling about something humorlessly. He leaned heavily against Mick, smelling of alcohol and cigarette smoke. Mick sighed, resisting the urge to run his hands down his own face.

He stood up from the booth and shared a meaningful look with Callum, who followed soon after, as if on second thought. They managed to get out of there fine, without much trouble. Despite how drunk he appeared, Charles was managing to walk in a fairly straight line with little help. It was once they were on the street, Callum several paces back to give them at least the illusion of privacy, that it got… weird. 

Charles had been leaning against Mick, talking nonstop. Mick didn’t bother listening because it was French. Not only that -  _ drunken  _ French and that was way above his abilities. It was only when Charles went quiet that got Mick’s attention. And then he said one sentence which made Mick’s blood boil and freeze at the same time, once his brain had processed it.

“Je t’ai déjà dit combien je t’aime?” Charles asked, clinging onto Mick, and started giggling uncontrollably.

Suddenly, everything went still. Mick shot a panicky look at Callum who stood there, eyes going from Charles to Mick and back again. He had his mouth open and looked like he very much wanted to say something but couldn’t find the right words. Which was exactly how Mick felt in that moment. His French was passable at best, but even he caught the end of Charles’s sentence.  _ Je t’aime _ … No more than several hours earlier Charles had even translated that very phrase for him.

Callum seemed to shake off the shock as he jogged up to Mick, arms going around Charles’s waist immediately. “I’ve got him,” he told Mick with a reassuring smile. 

Mick stood there, watching Callum catch a cab and disappear inside with Charles. It felt like his heart was trying to jump out of his chest. Maybe he had misunderstood? Or maybe Charles had mistaken him for someone else? Though he really doubted Charles would want to tell anyone else he loved them. Maybe save for his family but you don’t hang onto your family like he did onto Mick.

Deciding he should probably leave before Jüri and Juan came out and started asking questions, Mick forced his legs to start cooperating. He wasn’t even one hundred percent sure what direction he was going in but he needed to  _ move _ . As if that was the only thing keeping him from losing his mind. He had never thought that hearing those words from Charles could turn his world upside down in the worst way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PS. If I remember correctly, the next chapter isn't finished yet, so I don't know when I'll update. I'll do my best, though.


	6. Barcelona

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For some reason it's dated this chapter the 2nd of November. I've changed it now

Back in his room, Mick slowly became aware of the speed at which his heart was beating. He wondered what a panic attack felt like and if he was as close to one as he suspected. And if so, what could he do about it anyway? 

In five long strides he was at the window, pulling it open, the air in the room suddenly suffocatingly thick and stiff. Charles had said… Mick closed his head and leaned his forehead against the cool wall next to the window. The scene was playing in his mind over and over until he was no longer sure if it had really happened or if he’d just dreamed it up. Did Charles even mean what he said? Or was he just drunk? 

Mick didn’t know what it would mean for the two of them. Was he supposed to pretend it had never happened? He could never do that. It just wouldn’t be fair for either of them. He  _ needed _ to know. Though he suspected he already did.

But Charles was in no state to have an honest, reasonable conversation in the moment. Mick found himself wishing Maxi was there. As bad as he could have been at handling his own problems, he was surprisingly good with his friends’. He’d have  _ some _ advice for Mick. And if not, maybe he could at least calm him down a little bit.

What Mick really needed more than anything was Charles. Charles and some answers. He wouldn’t find peace of mind until he heard him - fully sober and aware of what he was saying - admit that he really had meant that. Or that he hadn’t. That’d be a sure heartbreak but at least Mick would know where he stood. Anything was better than the uncertainty. He was an idiot to seriously believe he could get away with never mentioning anything to Charles. He should have forced him to talk sooner instead of fooling himself and maybe then he wouldn’t be losing his mind.

Deciding to keep the window open so that the cool fresh air could make the room feel less stuffy, Mick let himself fall down onto the bed. He propped his hands on his knees and just  _ breathed _ for several minutes. His mind was a total mess and he didn’t know what to think anymore. About anything.

He typed out a text to Maxi, asking if what Charles had said could be understood in the platonic way. He stared at his phone for ten minutes before finally deleting everything. That would have taken way too long to explain. Deciding to take a page out of Maxi’s book, Mick made his way to the bathroom. He flung his clothes to the floor, trying to get rid of some of the anxiety and anger he could feel coursing through his veins, then stepped into the bathtub. 

He made the water as hot as he could bear, relishing in the way it made his flesh burn. It helped him take his mind off everything else, focusing on the stinging sensation instead. Slightly more grounded, he sat down, putting the plug in place and turning the tap so the water was plain hot, not scolding. He stretched out as much as he could, wincing when his heated back touched the cool porcelain of the bath. 

With his head leaning against the wall and his eyes closed, he focused on breathing normally again. It felt a bit like there was something heavy on his chest and stomach, preventing him from getting enough air. His head was swimming  from the heat so he turned the tap towards the blue colour as far as he could. He had the impression that everything around him wasn’t real. Like a dream or… like when you drink too much and see the world as if from someone else’s perspective. It was weird but he didn’t want to dwell on it. He only realised he had forgotten to turn the tap when the water was just about to reach the edge of the bath. Unhurriedly, he corrected his mistake.

He lay in that tub for such a long time, minuscule bubbles of air had formed around the otherwise invisible hairs on his hips and thighs. He could finally fully appreciate the appeal of taking a hot bath. Maxi was onto something and Mick decided that from now on he would never laugh again when his friend disappeared inside their bathroom for hours at a time after a stressful day. 

It didn’t give him any answers. But he felt calmer now and not like his world was falling apart. As he toweled himself off slowly, he wondered what he should do next. He figured he could take a look at Charles to make sure he was okay. And then what? He didn’t want to be alone. With a sigh, he let the towel fall to the floor and stood there staring at his reflection in the mirror for a long time, trying to finally come up with  _ solutions _ and not just more  _ problems _ .

 

#

 

Callum couldn’t explain why it had made him feel so… off. Charles’s confession sparked something in him and he could no longer keep his thoughts sorted out. It wasn’t jealousy, he was sure of that. He didn’t know if it was because he suddenly remembered how much he missed Maxi or if it was simply empathy directed at Mick. Whatever it was, it made him pace around his room anxiously, phone clutched in one hand. 

He checked the time again only to find that not even three minutes had passed since the last time he’d done that. Maxi’s smiling face greeted him as he unlocked the screen, making him stop dead in his tracks. He’d taken the photo back when they were happy and… his heart skipped the beat as he thought  _ in love _ . Callum could still remember the moment, after all these months. Maxi stretched on his back, blanket across his legs though it hardly covered anything at all. Especially with the way Callum kept  _ accidentally _ shifting it every time Maxi adjusted the fabric. It was right at the beginning. Not their first time, though that was a memory Callum particularly cherished. But it was back when everything was still new and uncertain. So the first several days, after that they got so comfortable around each other like they’d never been before. 

Despite the crushing guilt Callum felt each time Maxi smiled at him so innocently happy. Callum could see the love in Maxi’s eyes and it was so very much like what he felt for the German. It killed him. Because Maxi had no idea about Callum’s secret, he trusted him blindly. And Callum felt like the biggest arsehole in the whole world because Maxi deserved so much better.

He blinked quickly, hoping to soothe the burning in his eyes. Without thinking too much about it, or letting the late hour stop him, he found Maxi’s number in his contact. The little heart Callum had put right next to his name, what felt like ages ago, was still there. Callum hadn’t been able to force himself to delete it. Maybe he should have but he refused to stop believing that they could actually have something. 

His finger hovered over the call button when the knock on the door, just an arm’s reach away, startled him. Pressing his lips together, Callum locked the screen and nestled the phone against his stomach. There was the ridiculous idea that maybe it was a sign but he shrugged it off. If it was a sign of anything, then only that he should let the poor guy sleep rather than pour his heart out over the phone at three in the morning. Though Maxi did tend to be less reasonable and logical when he was sleepy. It was absolutely adorable and rather convenient at times. 

He wasn’t all that surprised when he saw Mick standing in the hallway, wringing his fingers, shorts low on hips and wet patches on T-shirt. He looked awful and Callum immediately forgot all about Maxi. He needed to take care of Mick first, Maxi could wait some more. There were more important things.

He stifled the stupid  _ are you okay _ and settled for wordlessly pulling Mick into the room. The German wasted no time wrapping his arms around Callum and pressing his face against the side of Callum’s neck. He was breathing shakily, like he was on the verge of tears. Callum pushed the door closed with one hand, the other resting on Mick’s lower back, a steady pressure meant to ground Mick more than anything.

It seemed to do the trick because Mick pulled back after a moment, so that they could look at each other.

“Do you want to talk?” Callum asked, stroking up and down Mick’s arms. “Come on, sit down.”

He stepped back, letting Mick settle on Callum’s bed, falling back against the soft pillows with a groan. “What am I supposed to do?”

There it was, the million dollar question. It was one Callum was familiar with on a personal level. He’d been asking himself that for months, ever since he’d realised he was falling for Maxi. The sad truth was, there was no correct answer. Ever. He didn’t know what he should tell Mick. He wouldn’t dream of lying, that wasn’t what friends were for. But he simply didn’t have the answer. He’d had a lot of time to come to terms with that.

With a sigh Callum walked towards the bed and lowered himself onto the mattress slowly. He decided not to reply, he didn’t think Mick even expected an answer. He just settled on his back and pulled Mick towards him, hoping to offer at least some comfort. 

“Do you think he meant it?” Mick whispered so softly Callum doubted momentarily if he’d even said it at all.

He hesitated for a beat, fingers in Mick’s hair pausing before resuming their soft caress. He didn’t know what Mick wanted to hear but he knew what he thought. “Yes,” he whispered back. He had seen the way Charles looked at Mick when he thought no one could see. He remembered all the times he’d seen the two together, the way they cuddled and instinctively sought out each other’s touch. “I really think he did.”

 

***

 

Callum woke up to something hard pressing against his thigh and an arm wrapped tightly around his middle. He laughed to himself quietly, careful not to rouse Mick. It reminded him of the times he had Maxi like this. He was happy to find that it didn’t make his heart break anymore. The difference a night of peaceful sleeping could make. He felt… happy almost. Maybe he should thank Charles for being an idiot because, if nothing else, at least it helped Callum get his shit together. He was going to talk to Maxi as soon as he could. He had no guarantee that it’d produce the wanted result but at least he would have tried. He was determined to get everything out in the open and talk some sense into Maxi.

Mick shifted against him with a groan, his erection pressing more firmly against Callum’s flesh. Callum stifled another laugh, trying to decide if he should wake Mick up. He didn’t really mind and he didn’t think Mick would either, they were probably close enough not to be awkward about this. Not that lying there and letting his friends rub off against him was something Callum had ever done. Or ever planned on doing for that matter.

One look at Mick’s peaceful expression was enough to soften Callum’s heart into a puddle. As gently as he could, he unwrapped Mick’s arm from around his waist and slowly slipped out of bed, careful not to make too much noise or jostle the mattress. He stretched his back, shaking the arm Mick had been using for a pillow to get the circulation back. 

Mick made an unhappy sound, wrapping his arms around Callum’s pillow and pulling it to his chest. With a fond smile, Callum bent down to adjust the covers around Mick where they’d slipped down his shoulders. Then he gathered his stuff and made his way outside. 

A door closed with a bang somewhere to his left, in the opposite direction to where he’d wanted to go to the bathroom and take a much needed shower.  _ Charles’s room _ . Callum hesitated, wondering if maybe he should check on him. But something told him it wasn’t a great idea. He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, biting at his bottom lip. Finally he carried on towards the bathroom, pushing away the heavy guilt in the pit of his stomach.

There was a knock on the door just as Callum was about to pour half the shower gel onto his body in the hopes it would help his muscles loosen up. He pushed the curtain aside to find Mick strolling into the room, his hair sticking out in all directions and his eyes only half-open.

“Did I wake you?” Callum asked as Mick turned the tap in the sink. For a moment it looked like he was contemplating just shoving his head under it but then he composed himself and cupped his hands to splash some water onto his face instead.

He shook his head in reply to Callum’s question. He turned around to prop himself against the sink, water still dripping down his cheeks. Callum left the curtain half-open so that he wouldn’t have the impression to have to shout for Mick to hear him and resumed his task. The floor would look like there’d been a flood but Callum didn’t particularly care if he was being honest.

“I think Charles is up,” he said offhandedly, his back turned to Mick. Maybe it was weird, he was stark naked, they’d slept in the same bed more than once, and yet he felt like he’d be intruding if he watched Mick’s reaction at the words. 

Mick didn’t say anything for a long moment. “I need to talk to him,” he muttered. It wasn’t a question but Callum nodded anyway, turning around to get a look at Mick. 

“You okay?” He asked. That idiotic question which he hated but it’s been nagging him since the day before. 

Mick started, glancing up at him. He seemed to have spaced out, staring at the floor blankly. He considered Callum’s question for a moment before shrugging. “I’ll be fine,” he assured, the corners of his mouth lifting up. 

Callum turned the tap until the water was almost scaldingly hot and reminded himself not to compare his smile with Maxi’s. He was relieved to find that he believed Mick. No matter what would happen, he’d be alright. It was some relief at least.

 

#

 

Mick wasn’t pleased when he noticed how much his hand was shaking as he raised it to knock on Charles’s door. But it had to be done. Not only for his but also for Charles’s sake. He only hoped that at least their friendship could survive this if nothing else. No matter how much he wished for Charles to want him the same way Mick had been dreaming of, he would totally understand and accept if that wasn’t the case. He just needed Charles. It sounded so cheesy, even in his own head, that he cringed. But it was the truth nonetheless.

Though, if he was being brutally honest (and he really didn’t want to be right then), he didn’t think  _ just friends _ would ever cut it. He didn’t think he could actually hate Charles but he knew it would be too difficult to be in the same room, laugh and talk and have fun together, all the while pretending he didn’t vividly remember kissing Charles or holding him close. It really would have to be all or nothing.

Mick didn’t want to let himself realise that though, not fully. He would have rather pretended there was a way to make everything work. That the next moments wouldn’t have a huge impact on the rest of his life. He would get over rejection -  _ eventually _ \- it was just that he really didn’t want to have to do that. 

He watched his fist make contact with the sturdy wood. He felt weirdly detached, as if he was just watching somebody else do this. He waited several beats but there was no movement inside. He knocked again, more insistent.

“Charles? It’s me.”

Nothing. With a heavy sigh Mick pushed the knob down and slowly opened the door. Charles was lying on the bed on his stomach, his face hidden in the pillow. He didn’t look up as Mick let himself in. 

“Go away,” he muttered weakly when the mattress dipped under Mick’s weight.

Mick frowned at Charles’s back. He didn’t know what to think of his sudden unwillingness to see him. 

Mick said his name again, resting his hand on Charles’s shoulder blade, eyes widening when Charles made a sudden movement, sitting up straight and turning to face Mick. At first it looked like Mick was going to be yelled at. But then Charles deflated suddenly, pulling his knees up to his chest with his arms wrapped around them, as if to make himself smaller. As if Mick was a threat. 

Mick’s heart sank at the reaction but he didn’t let that deter him in the slightest.

“We need to talk,” he said insistently, raising his chin up, lips pressed together. 

No response. Charles didn’t even budge.

“Are you angry with me?” Mick tried again, his voice and expression softening instantly. He’d noticed the way Charles was staring at the sheets with a pout, looking a bit like he wanted to cry.

Charles shrugged. 

Mick sighed and shifted up the bed, towards Charles. His hand got shrugged off again but he just put it right back on Charles’s shoulder. He could tell the exact moment Charles gave in. He slumped in Mick’s arms, pressing his face against Mick’s neck. 

“I saw you with Callum,” he muttered so quietly Mick had trouble understanding him. “Earlier today.”

Mick frowned, pulling back to regard Charles’s face thoughtfully. That at least explained the sudden anger. “We didn’t do anything,” he said. He forced back the annoying voice in his brain which told him it was the perfect opportunity to remind Charles he had no right being jealous. Especially not after the stunt he pulled with that girl back in Paris. But that would lead to a huge argument in five seconds flat and Mick would rather avoid that. Arguments might clear the air but he hated them. It was so easy to say something in anger and then regret it for the rest of your life. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Charles.

Charles snorted and moved away from Mick’s embrace, out of Mick’s reach even. “I know you didn’t. That’s  _ not the point _ .” 

“ _ What _ ?”

Mick watched him with a frown as Charles stood up and started pacing the room. When he failed to say anything for several minutes, Mick decided to drop the subject of Callum and focus on something else instead. The  _ something _ that was the reason he had even come in the first place.

“Do you remember anything about last night?” He asked, carefully judging Charles’s reaction. 

Charles widened his eyes and seemed to hold his breath. “No,” he said curtly. Mick didn’t need to know him as well as he did to be able to see the obvious lie.

Mick bit his lip. “You said-”

“ _ Mick _ !” 

Mick swallowed audibly but didn’t let himself show that he was affected in any way. It was probably the first time Charles ever raised his voice at him. They had to talk about this or it would tear them both apart.

“Did you mean it?” He asked.

Charles huffed and started pacing again. “Why the fuck can’t you just leave me alone?”

“Because I love you.”

It took Mick’s brain a second to process that he had actually said that out loud. Not that it wasn’t true. He just hadn’t been expecting to blurt it out like that.

The same was apparently true for Charles, who looked like he was having some sort of an attack. He stopped half-step, mouth hanging open and eyes comically wide. His whole face was redder than Mick had ever seen it. 

Everything was still for a moment. Then all hell broke loose.

Charles seemed to find his voice again as he picked up the nearest object which turned out to be some book and hurled it against the wall as hard as he could. “You can’t-” he exclaimed. “Don’t say that!”

Mick stared at him with wide eyes. The move seemed overdramatic even for Charles but Mick knew better than to speak up. It wasn’t wise to say anything when Charles was like that.

“Why?” Charles asked, turning on his heel to glare at Mick.

Mick shrugged. There was a thousand reasons but Charles didn’t need to hear any of them in that moment. “Because I do,” he said calmly.

Charles made a sudden move towards the desk, probably to find something else to throw, but then caught himself. “I hate you so much,” he said but Mick didn’t believe it for a second. Charles looked like he was a second away from bursting into tears. This was the most emotional Mick had ever seen him. As if bottling up his feelings all the time meant he just had to let them all out at once.

“You know Veronica? Back in Paris.” Mick’s mind immediately provided him with the memory of a shapely brunette leaving Charles’s hotel room and he tried not to cringe. “We used to go to school together. She was my girlfriend for two years; the prettiest girl I have ever seen. Every guy wanted to date her. They were all so fucking jealous of me. I’ve actually considered  _ marrying _ her one day.” 

Charles paused to take a deep breath, running his fingers through his hair and making a huge mess of it. Mick could only gape at him, feeling completely lost as to why Charles was telling him all this. “She probably still thinks I’ll propose someday or something. You know I fucked her back in Paris, right? And she did everything just right. The way she moaned my name and arched her back. She was fucking amazing.”

Mick resisted the urge to cover his ears with his hands. He wondered why Charles felt the need to torture him like that. But even if he wanted to, he doubted he could get a word in with the way Charles was talking a mile a minute. And he  _ didn’t _ want to. It hurt like hell but at least Charles was finally talking.

“Do you have any idea how many guys would do anything to be in my place right then? And I couldn’t stop thinking about  _ you _ ! I kept seeing all the differences. How she kissed completely wrong and how she just let me do whatever I wanted and how she _ was not you _ . I thought I was going mad!”

Mick gaped at Charles who had started pacing back and forth in the room once again. He must have misheard that. It was one of the last things he had been expecting to hear. What Charles was saying really shouldn’t have made any sense, Mick knew that  _ logically _ , but it was Charles and so somehow it made perfect sense. He couldn’t say he understood everything but he did understand enough.

“You meant it,” Mick said slowly with a small smile. He didn’t care if it made Charles angrier. As long as Charles felt that way about him, there was nothing that could hurt him ever again. 

Charles stopped and stared at him pleadingly. All the anger seemed to have left him in a matter of seconds. He just looked tired. Mick wondered if it was a very bad idea to go up to him but before he could think it through he was getting up from the bed. Charles didn’t react when Mick wrapped his arms around him tightly. He didn’t push him away but neither did he relax. 

“What’s wrong?” Mick dared to ask softly when Charles made no move to get away from him. He felt Charles sigh against his neck as he finally wrapped his arms around Mick’s middle and let his forehead fall forward onto Mick’s shoulder.

“I can’t do this,” he whispered, voice muffled against Mick’s T-shirt.

Mick frowned, running his fingers up Charles’s back. If he was being honest, he didn’t really know what Charles could mean by that. Or at least why he believed that. To Mick it seemed pretty straightforward - they were in love, why on Earth shouldn’t they be together?

“Why?” Mick asked slowly, steeling himself for another outburst.

But Charles just tightened his hold on Mick, his ribs expanding as he took a deep breath. He pulled away, taking several steps backwards until they were no longer touching. “I’m scared,” he admitted, crossing his arms on his chest. Mick could appreciate how much it must have cost him to say that. “I’m not that good at relationships, you know.”

Mick regarded him for a long while with his head cocked to the side. “How do you mean?”

Charles sighed. He looked exasperated, like Mick should  _ know _ what he meant. As if it was obvious. “Look, I just can’t get them to work. I know I should love those girls, I have no reason not to, they’re all amazing. But I  _ can’t _ . And then everything just falls apart.”

Mick tried not to show the incredulity he was feeling. “So basically what you’re saying… is that you love me... but you don’t want to be with me... because you didn’t love any of your girlfriends,” he concluded. He hoped Charles could see how irrational he sounded.

Deciding he’d heard enough, Mick walked up to Charles and shut him up with a kiss. It took a second for Charles to relax under his touch. But as soon as he did, there were fingers sliding up the back of Mick’s T-shirt. 

“I love you,” Mick said again, pulling away, but keeping Charles’s chest pressed firmly against his own. He didn’t think he’d ever get tired of saying that. “Don’t you care at all?”

“I care too much,” Charles replied quickly, as if reflexively. His cheeks reddened as he realised he’d said that out loud. “I…” he trailed off, apparently no longer sure what exactly he was trying to prove. 

Mick pulled him in for another kiss, made it as tender and loving as he could. Charles said his name, almost like a plea, but Mick doubted that Charles really wanted him to stop. So he pressed their lips together again. He didn’t know how to get to Charles, other than show him what he meant. Maybe it was cheating, getting Charles to make the decision by first having sex with him but, perhaps paradoxically, it was the only way to get him thinking straight instead of putting up walls. Mick hated when he did that. Especially since there’d been times when he’d managed to break through them, only to have them back up, even stronger, the very next day. It was frustrating, even though Mick could understand why Charles felt the need to hide. He just wished Charles would let him in, because he’d do anything to keep him happy and that was anything but easy when he had to guess what was bothering Charles.

It wasn’t a surprise, but Mick felt a pang of disappointment anyway as Charles tried to make it more fast and dirty - meaningless. He did that every single time but Mick wasn’t going to let him. This was the point at which he had to put his foot down and confront Charles with what he was feeling.

It wasn’t easy. Mick felt like Charles was fighting him, despite the way his hands were clenching on Mick’s hips and he was kissing him deeply.  _ Afraid _ . It wasn’t a pleasant thought. Charles should have known better, should have trusted Mick more than that. There was no reason to be afraid, not with Mick around, and certainly not  _ of _ him. Mick run his hands down Charles’s sides gently, trying to show him how he felt without saying it out loud. Words had little meaning with Charles. Actions were what really counted, Mick had figured that out ages ago.

There was something almost panicky in the shaky breath Charles let out as he pulled Mick on top of him on the bed, refusing to break the kiss even as Mick settled between his legs, slipping his fingers under the hem of Charles’s T-shirt. He resisted the urge to ask Charles if he was okay. He knew Charles would stop him if he really wanted to. He also knew that if he spoke up now, they would get absolutely nowhere.

Charles moan sounded like it’d been forced out of him when Mick broke the kiss to press his lips against Charles’s neck instead, his fingers teasing up Charles’s chest. He suspected there would be marks on his back from the almost painful way Charles was digging his nails in the skin there. It was messy and uncoordinated, because they were both aiming for different things. Charles wanted rough and hard, to make it all the more meaningless, as if that would have erased Mick’s earlier confession. Mick was determined to make it tender, so that he could finally show Charles how much he really loved him. 

Mick could feel the way Charles kept tensing up more every time a piece of clothing came off, so that, by the time they were both naked, Mick was beginning to wonder if he was going to put a stop to this. But Charles was as hard as Mick was and there was something in his eyes that told Mick he should keep going. It took some coaxing but he could pinpoint the exact moment Charles gave in. He let his body go slack against the mattress, all of his muscles unclenching at once as he closed his eyes and whispered Mick’s name. As if he no longer had any strength left to fight this. 

This was all about Charles. Mick didn’t even have to take his mind off his own pleasure because he was so focused on Charles’s, he didn’t consider anything else for a second. It was more than enough for him to be able to see, to  _ feel _ , Charles arching his back underneath him and hear the broken moan of his name as Mick entered him. His own orgasm almost took him by surprise, so captivated by the expression on Charles face as he tried to get his breathing back under control. 

He didn’t pull out immediately, choosing to run the tips of his fingers down Charles’s cheek, wordlessly asking him to open his eyes. Charles grabbed his wrist and stilled the movement. 

“I don’t know what to do,” he whispered. When he opened his eyes, Mick could see that they glistened with tears. 

He lay on his side, his hand squeezing Charles’s shoulder comfortingly. He could see the hesitation but then Charles finally gave in and let himself wrap his arms around Mick’s waist, hiding his face against his chest. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologise,” Mick said quickly, almost automatically, tangling his fingers in Charles’s hair. “What are you thinking?” He asked after a long while, after he’d decided Charles had had enough time to calm down.

The hand which had been lying flat on Mick’s chest was suddenly balled up and Mick could feel the muscles in Charles’s back tensing beneath his palm. But then Charles sighed heavily and relaxed - not fully but it was enough for Mick to take it as a good sign. 

“I’m terrified,” Charles whispered, voice muffled against Mick’s skin.

“Terrified,” Mick repeated, frowning. “Terrified of  _ what _ ?”

Charles shrugged, snuggling closer against Mick’s side. “I honestly don’t know. It’s just…” he trailed off.

“Tell me.”

Charles finally moved, propped himself up on his elbow so that he could look at Mick. He looked away just as quickly though, choosing to stare at Mick’s chest instead. “I’ve never been this close to anyone,” he said, fingers tugging at the edge of the blanket, drawing it higher up his body. “Not even my brothers. I feel like you know  _ everything _ about me. Like… sometimes you seem to know more than  _ I  _ do.”

Mick stroked Charles’s back absentmindedly, chewing on his bottom lip as he tried to process Charles’s words. “That’s a bad thing,” he stated finally, the only logical conclusion to what Charles had said. “Why?”

It was silence for a long moment and Mick turned his head to look at Charles questioningly. But Charles wouldn’t meet his gaze. He was staring at the covers determinedly, brows furrowed, as if he was lost in thoughts.

“Doesn’t it scare you?” He asked in the end, finally looking up at Mick’s face. “I hate it so much,” he exclaimed suddenly, not even waiting for Mick’s reply. 

Mick watched him as Charles sat up straight, letting the edge of the blanket fall out of his hands. He had his back to Mick but the German didn’t need to see his face to be able to tell what expression he was wearing.

“I can’t stop thinking about you and I want to have you close all the time. I can’t go on like this!”

“You’ve been in relationships before,” Mick remarked, not failing to notice the way Charles’s shoulders rose and fell as he heaved a deep sigh.

“It wasn’t like this. They didn’t really mean much, you know,” he said. “I liked those girls - a lot. But… they didn’t make me feel this way…” he trailed off and Mick could guess his face was probably burning up. Charles was the last person to make such a confession but it only meant that Mick could appreciate the honesty of it when he did. 

He sighed, sitting up next to Charles so that he could press his lips to his spine. “It’s okay,” he muttered. “Why didn’t you just tell me?”

Charles shrugged, letting out a humourless laugh. “It sounds ridiculous,” he mumbled. “And you’ve never said anything, so I thought I could avoid the topic.”

“Forever?”

“Longer if necessary.”

Mick huffed a tired laugh against Charles’s shoulder. Charles turned around and pushed Mick back until he could lie down half on top of him. 

“What do we do?” he asked after a longer while had passed. 

Mick didn’t reply for a moment, trying to sort out his thoughts. He knew what he wanted but he also knew what Charles meant about being afraid. “We go to sleep. We both need it after last night.”

“But-” Charles started protesting, raising his head from where he had had his forehead pressed against Mick’s collarbone. Mick didn’t hesitate before kissing him gently, cutting off whatever Charles had been meaning to tell him. He didn’t want to listen to that right now. Charles needed some time to sort things out in his head and, although he didn’t have enough strength of will to leave, Mick wouldn’t ask him to make any promises then. 

Charles nodded when they broke apart and bit his bottom lip. “Okay. Tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow.”

 

#

 

Callum felt almost like he was committing a crime, as he threw his clothes back into the bag. He guessed Mick and Charles must have made up, it sure  _ sounded _ like it, and it made something inside him twist almost painfully. He was happy for them but it also made him realise that he still had his own problems which needed to be taken care of. As soon as possible.

“Going somewhere?” 

Callum started when he heard the voice behind him. 

“Juan,” he exclaimed, turning around to narrow his eyes at the grinning boy leaning against the doorframe. “You can’t just sneak up on people like that. You’re gonna give someone a heart attack.”

“You didn’t answer,” Juan remarked. He walked inside the room, closing the door behind him. 

Callum took the glass Juan offered him, deciding he didn’t need to know what was inside. He had found out that Juan made some really good, really  _ strong _ drinks. 

“Did something happen?” Juan asked, making himself comfortable on Callum’s bed. 

Callum shrugged. “Not really. I just have something important to do,” he finally said. Not quite a lie but not the whole truth either.

Juan hummed in a way which suggested he didn’t quite believe that. “So suddenly?”

“No. I’ve been putting it off for  _ ages _ ,” Callum admitted.

Thankfully, that seemed to satisfy Juan, who nodded. “Is it urgent enough that you don’t have the time to go out once more with your friends?”

Callum stared at him, quickly deciding that he didn’t mean Mick and Charles. A smile spread across his lips. “One more day can’t hurt, right?”

“I promise to personally drop you off at the airport first thing tomorrow.”

“I’ll take you up on that. So where are we going?” He asked as Juan stood up and wrapped his fingers around Callum’s wrist, dragging him out of the room and downstairs. 

“Let’s start with the beach.”

 

***

 

“Tell me something?” Juan asked, looking away from Juri who was slowly making his way towards the bar. The music in the club wasn’t loud enough for him to have to actually shout but he did have to raise his voice.

Callum turned his head to stare at him. “What is it?”

“That thing you have to take care off…” he paused to glance in Juri’s direction, “does it have anything to do with that someone you like?”

Mouth open, Callum gaped at him for a long while. Juan didn’t push for an answer, though the corners of his mouth were twitching in a way which suggested he might have enjoyed it more than he should have. “How…?” Callum finally managed to gasp out. “Have you been talking to Mick?”

Juan laughed. “Mick would rather  _ die _ than reveal something like this. You just…” he trailed off, looking Callum up and down, as if trying to find something unusual. “There’s something about you that made me think you were in love with someone.”

Callum bit his lip, trying to stop himself from smiling. “No comment.”

“I have a confession to make though,” Juan added after a second. “At first I thought you had a crush on Mick.”

“Mick?” Callum exclaimed, laughing out loud. “What the fuck…  _ Why _ ?”

Juan shrugged. “No clue. You two seem to be real close.”

“Yeah,” Callum muttered, smiling softly. “I guess we are.”

Juan opened his mouth as if to say something more but Juri returned in that moment, settling a tray with shots in the middle of the table. He slid into the booth next to Juan and looked between the two of them with a confused expression. 

“Have I missed something?”

Callum was indescribably revealed when Juan replied with a simple “nothing interesting.”

Juri shrugged and reached for one of the glasses, only to have his hand slapped by Juan.

“I suggest we play  _ Never have I ever _ ,” Juan said with a huge grin. 

“Oh my God…”

“Yes!”

“Two against one. Sorry, Ilott but you’ve been outnumbered.”

“You’re so  _ not _ sorry.”

He only got a wink from Juan in reply and an arm thrown around his shoulders. “You  _ adore _ me.”

Callum didn’t say anything to that, settling for hiding the wide smile, which had somehow found its way onto his lips, behind his hand.


	7. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter than the others but I didn't want to drag it out just for the sake of it

It was with the strangest sensation in his stomach that Callum pressed the doorbell next to his… next to  _ Mick and Maxi’s  _ flat. He still hadn’t got used not to thinking of it as his own. A long silence followed. Callum counted to twenty in his head, then rang again. Nothing. Trying to convince his heart to stop racing like he was about to jump out of a speeding train, he fished Mick’s key out of his pocket and pushed it into the lock, his shaking hands making the simple action extremely difficult. 

It took him several tries before he realised it wasn’t even the correct key. Charles had given him a spare one to his flat, where Callum had stayed for a while before driving to Germany. He had needed the rest - just some peace and quiet to collect his thoughts and figure out what he wanted to do next. He could hardly open Mick’s flat with that key though. With an irritated huff, he braced his hands against the door and rested his forehead against the wood, giving himself a minute to just breathe and pull himself together before trying again.

The flat was empty and Callum couldn’t tell if what he was feeling was relief or disappointment. He did want to see Maxi, really. He only hoped the German wouldn’t walk into his own living room and see Callum there. That would be one of the most awkward situations Callum could imagine. But the relief won over in the end. It was almost too much, being there again. He had missed it, much more than he thought he would. Had Maxi been there, Callum didn’t know what he would have done. But with the flat empty, he could take his time to calm down and get his wits about him. The front door felt sturdy against his back and he shook his head to make the images of holding Maxi against it and kissing him go away. 

Feeling like he was doing something immoral, Callum pushed the door to Maxi’s bedroom open. It wasn’t that he needed to go there, his books were on the shelf in the living room and his jacket was hanging on the hook by the front door - almost as if he was still living there, like he’d never left. So it wasn’t that he  _ needed _ to go there but he couldn’t help himself. Something pulled him there and he couldn’t resist even if he’d wanted to… 

Nothing had changed. The bed covers where the same as the ones when Callum had fist slept there, he still remembered them in detail. He’d only seen them maybe once after that and he didn’t want to think what it meant that Maxi had decided to take them out again. If it even meant anything at all. 

He stood in the doorway, staring at the empty bed and feeling his stomach turning in a way which wasn’t entirely pleasant and had very little to do with nerves. There were so many memories in that room. It was clean. Cleaner than Callum remembered. There was a stack of books on the desk but other than that, the room looked barely lived in. He was almost sure that if he opened the wardrobe, it would be at least half-empty.

He slowly let himself sink onto the edge of the bed as he stared around. There was no sign of anyone having been there for weeks, which could be true judging by the thin layer of dust collecting on the surface of furniture. Maxi would have wiped that off ages ago. So the only conclusion was that he had gone somewhere.

It was a relief in a way because, even though Callum wanted to see him more than anything, he was also terrified. It had been so long… He had no clue how to start, what to say. There were so many things he wanted to tell Maxi but he just didn’t know how. And he was afraid of the reaction he’d get. He didn’t want to get rejected, the very thought made him want to grab his things and then get back to his car and drive home without stopping.

But he wouldn’t. Maxi’s bedroom reminded him of all the bad things - Maxi refusing to talk to him, the suffocating awkwardness he felt after Maxi had found out the truth about Em… But there were many more good memories. Like that time they stayed up till dawn, watching movies on Maxi’s laptop, right after they’d had sex for the first time. Or waking up to Maxi’s arms wrapped around him protectively. Or getting to lie there for  _ hours _ just kissing and talking. Callum missed it so much it hurt. He wanted to have that back - he wanted to have Maxi again and he didn’t care what it would take to get him.

His phone ringing in the perfectly quiet flat made Callum jump. He considered rejecting the call but it was Mick’s name on the screen, so there was no valid reason not to speak to him. He got up from the bed, as if Mick would know he was sitting down on it and scold him for that. Which first of all he couldn’t know and, more importantly, even if he did, there was no way he’d scold Callum for that.

“Callum, where are you?” He asked, as soon as Callum picked up.

_ In Maxi’s bedroom, about to have a minor nervous breakdown _ . “In the flat.”

“He’s in Berlin,” Mick told him. 

Callum frowned, tracing the tips of his fingers down the stack of books on Maxi’s desk. “What?”

There was an exasperated sigh on the other end. “For fuck’s sake, Ilott, why are you still talking to me?”

It got the message across. Callum ended the call without even bothering to say  _ bye _ or  _ thanks _ . He typed out a text and sent it before he could chicken out. A simple “ _ Call me if you have time _ ”. He knew better than to give Maxi a ring. He would have freaked out and either say something idiotic he didn’t mean or not answer at all. That was simply the way Maxi was and Callum wouldn’t dream of changing it. Even though it might have made life that little bit easier. In reality, the message was nothing more than a warning, a way to give Maxi time to prepare himself for what was to come. Callum decided to give him twenty-four hours before calling.

His phone pinged with a new message, making his heart jump like it wanted to escape from his chest. Mick’s name flashed on the screen and it wasn’t really a surprise, but Callum felt a pang of disappointment anyway.

**_Feel free to stay the night :)_ **

Five seconds later, another message came.

**_If Maxi’s bed’s too much, you can have mine._ **

**_But don’t even think of sleeping on the couch._ **

Callum smiled at the screen, wondering what that feeling in his heart was. He was reminded once again that he had the best friends anyone could ever wish for. But it made his heart twist painfully because he remembered that he could have had more. Or maybe he still could.

 

***

 

It wasn’t exactly a pleasant experience. The flat was full of memories which haunted Callum wherever he went. Everything reminded him of Maxi. It was so easy to forget the reality and think he was still living there. He caught himself waiting for Maxi to walk in the door and smile widely, before flopping down onto the couch next to him, as close as possible, and tell him about his day. Or drag him off it onto the floor and kiss him, because nobody else was home and they could do that. One time, he had grabbed Callum’s hand and dragged him into their room… Callum never found out what that was about but he didn’t particularly want to with Maxi’s hands under his T-shirt and Maxi’s hips rubbing against his.

He took a long bath, staring at the wall in front of him blankly and rehearsing all the things he could say. He wasn’t expecting Maxi to call, he really wasn’t, but his phone was lying on the sink nonetheless. Callum had enough sanity left not to glance at it every second. He had to ask Maxi to meet him in person, that much was obvious. He could drive to Berlin to see him, it would only take several hours and Callum was willing to give so much more than that. 

Maybe against his better judgement, he slid under the covers of Maxi’s bed. The sheets didn’t really smell of him anymore but it didn’t matter. Callum could remember everything that had happened there, every little kiss and every sound Maxi made. It was still early and he wasn’t planning on going to sleep anytime soon. Which was good news because he doubted he could ever convince his brain to let him get some rest with the mess in his head.

On a whim he fished his phone out from where he’d dropped it onto the sheets earlier and hesitated, fingers hovering over the keyboard. What do you say to your ex-girlfriend with whom you last spoke when you broke up with her? In the end, he decided the best thing would be to stop overthinking it. Em was still Em, despite them not being together anymore.

**_Hi, what’s up?_ **

No more than a minute had passed before the screen lit up with an incoming call. 

“Lucky bastard,” his ex-girlfriend exclaimed the moment he picked up. Callum smiled, feeling some knot in his chest undoing itself at the sound of her voice and the familiarity of it all. “I’ve run into your mum, you know. She told me you’re running around, having fun somewhere in Europe while I’m stuck here  _ studying _ .”

“Well, that’s what you get for wanting to become a doctor,” Callum replied. “ _ And _ being the best in your year.”

The warm laughter made Callum’s heart feel warmer. “Yeah, I’m too ambitious, I know. You’ve told me a million times.”

“And you never listen.”

“How are you doing? I’ve heard you’ve dropped out.”

Callum hesitated. “I don’t regret it.”

To his surprise, Em laughed. “I was going to congratulate you. I’ve been wondering if you’d ever have the balls to do it.”

Callum gaped at a lone spider making it’s way across their-… across  _ Maxi’s  _ ceiling, trying to decide if he’d heard right. “You… I mean…  _ What _ ?”

Em laughed again. It sounded genuine enough, not like she was just being polite but like she was actually happy he’d reached out to her. “You hated every second of it and weren’t even trying to hide it.”

Callum didn’t know what he should say to that, so he decided to change the subject instead. “How are things with Antonio?”

There was a long silence on the other end and Callum could practically see his ex-girlfriend’s face turning red. 

“Sod off,” she muttered in the end. “We may or may not have gone on a date. Or three.”

Callum smiled to himself. He thought that if things were going so well for people around him, why shouldn’t they for him too? Everything was going to work out.

“What about you?” Em asked.

Callum bit his lips. “I promise to tell you all about it later.”

“You’re keeping secrets from me?” She asked teasingly.

“Nah… I just don’t know myself.”

Em laughed. “We’ve gotta grab a coffee sometime,” she announced in a decisive voice. “When are you getting back anyway?”

Callum looked towards the darkened sky he could see through the window and thought about Maxi somewhere in Berlin. He could very well be on his way back the very next day but if the two of them made up… “No clue,” he said. “I’ll give you a call though. That’s a promise.”

 

#

 

Mick rolled his eyes as Charles straddled him, humming the familiar tune awfully off-key and grinning like he’d just won lottery. There was some dried up glue on his cheek from his earlier attempts to glue his shelves to the wall. Mick reached up to touch it, which Charles took as an invitation to lean down and kiss him. Which, fair enough, it kind of was.

“Why don’t you just let me nail them up properly?” He asked with a laugh when the piece of wood propped up against the wall slid down with a loud noise.

Charles frowned but then shrugged. “If you really want to… But I’m making dinner then,” he added. He didn’t give Mick time to protest (not that he had been meaning to) before kissing him again, open-mouthed and like he couldn’t get enough. Mick let him, wrapping his arms around Charles’s middle to pull him closer until he had to lie down on top of Mick fully.

“I’m sorry,” he said when they pulled apart.

Mick gently ran his fingers through Charles’s hair, pulling them back form his face. “What for?”

Charles bit his lip and sighed heavily. “Everything?” He looked down to where his fingers were tracing patterns on Mick’s T-shirt. “I acted like an arsehole and I don’t even have a good excuse for that.”

“You really did,” Mick agreed. He chuckled when Charles looked up at him, half-shocked from Mick agreeing with him so easily. “But I get it. Just maybe don’t do it again,” he added, smiling at Charles and leaning up a bit so that he could press his lips to the corner of Charles’s mouth. “Now get up. We’ve got work to do,” he commanded, patting Charles’s backside.

Charles groaned unhappily and hid his face against Mick’s chest. “You’re evil,” he complained.

Mick laughed, letting his fingers wander up the back of Charles’s T-shirt. “We still have to get up.”

He knew there would be trouble when Charles glanced up at him with those sparks in his eyes. “Okay,” he said.

“Okay?” Mick narrowed his eyes. There was no way Charles would give in this easily.

Charles hummed in agreement, propping himself up to kiss Mick. At the same time, his fingers found their way  _ just _ beneath the waistband of Mick’s shorts, teasing the skin of his abdomen. “If you really want to,” Charles said and made a move as if to get up.

Mick grabbed his hips to stop him from leaving. “Unfair,” he muttered with a pout. He nudged Charles’s hips until he got the clue and followed the movement, rocking down against Mick. “You’re playing dirty.”

“Love you too,” Charles replied with a wide grin, fingers already tugging the hem of his T-shirt up his chest.

 

***

 

“Go with me to visit my family on Christmas?”

Mick blinked at the ceiling, feeling like his heart had sped up ten times. He hadn’t expected Charles to suggest something like that. But when he turned his head to look at him, he was met by the most honest and open expression he had ever seen on Charles.  _ Hope _ . But also  _ love _ and  _ affection _ and all those other things Mick had been longing to see for months but never really let himself believe he would.

“You’re serious,” he whispered, feeling himself getting lost in the green of Charles’s eyes. “Are you sure?”

He was expecting Charles to bite his lips and shrug. But Charles just smiled softly, his hand finding Mick’s where it was resting on the latter’s stomach. “I want you there.”

“I’d love that,” Mick said with a nod, freeing his hand from Charles’s grip, but only so that he could wrap his arms around him and pull him closer. 

“You know something? I thought this would be so… I don’t know… suffocating?” Charles whispered after a while.

“Is it?”

Charles shook his head against Mick’s chest, wrapping his arms tighter around Mick’s waist. “Quite the opposite actually.”

Mick leaned up to his the top of Charles’s head. His cheeks were beginning to ache with how much he’d been smiling in the past few days but he couldn’t help it. Everything was absolutely perfect and he refused to let anything spoil that carefree happiness again.

 

#

 

Callum had been expecting the night to be fucking difficult. Tossing and turning, not being able to fall asleep, waking up every thirty minutes. For once he was glad to be one hundred percent wrong. He was asleep almost as soon as he put his phone down after his talk with Em. It had calmed him down in the way talking to her always did. Even if he didn’t love her like maybe he should have, he still cared and was happy they seemed to be able to manage being friends. 

So sleeping turned up to be no problem. It was the waking up part with which he struggled. He must have dreamt about something. He couldn’t recall what it had been in that annoying way when you  _ know _ you had a dream and you still feel the emotions it had caused but you can’t remember anything. And so his morning was off to a bad start, since he woke up way later than he’d been meaning to, feeling out of it and confused.

Then he just couldn’t force himself out of bed. It wasn’t laziness per se. It was that if he tried hard enough, he could pretend everything was fine. He could vividly recall lying in that very bed, staring at the crack in the ceiling and listening to Maxi and Mick moving around the flat, talking in quiet voices, which were still audible through the thin walls. Sometimes he would catch single words. Then, as his German got better, those single words turned into sentences until he could pretty much understand what was being said. Not that they ever talked about something exceptionally exciting - cars, university, and  _ who’s going to make dinner tonight _ were the main topics. Callum didn’t minded. He didn’t care for excitement, he simply enjoyed the familiarity of it. It took him by surprise how quickly  _ German _ became something familiar. Though, if he was being honest, he didn’t think it would have been that easy, had he not associated it with Maxi.

With a heavy sigh, Callum turned onto his side and reached for his phone on the nightstand to check the time.  _ Half past one _ . He had slept for  _ twelve hours _ . He knew he should get up, preferably soon, but he just  _ couldn’t _ . He found Maxi’s name in his contacts without meaning to. His finger hovered over the green  _ call _ button but in the end he decided to give it some more time. He’d been waiting for so long, what difference could an hour or two make?

So he showered first. He determinedly refused to notice how eerily quiet and empty the flat was when it was just him. Then he checked the fridge which turned out to be completely empty - trust Maxi to clean everything out when he was going away. It was good though. It gave Callum an excuse to go out. He took the tram to the centre, even though there was a supermarket five minutes from the flat, in which everything was five times cheaper. But he had missed the city and he needed something to take his mind off everything else. As he strolled back, having got off three stops earlier just so he could take a walk, he felt much lighter and happier than before. It had given him the courage he needed.

He made lunch first, so that, by the time he had finished, it was already past three. He collected his books from the living room and then took his time putting them into his suitcase. He draped his jacket over his arm and, with one last look at the flat, he pushed the door open and made his way outside, phone pressed to his ear. 

 

#

 

Mick had just finished putting the shelf up when he felt a pair of arms wrapping around his middle and a cool nose pressed against the back of his neck.

“Tell me something?” Charles mumbled.

“Yeah?”

“When did you first start liking me like this?”

Mick snickered. He turned around in Charles arms, so that he could press a kiss to his nose, before sauntering off in the direction of the fridge. Despite what he had said, Charles hadn’t made dinner and Mick wasn’t willing to go on without food for much longer.

“You mean when I first fell in love with you?” He corrected. He considered the question, staring at the pack of tomatoes way past their expiration date and half-heartedly wondering if he really felt like going through the whole fridge. “You want the truth,” he half-asked, half-stated. There was the minimal chance that Charles wanted to hear that Mick had fancied him for a very long time and didn’t care how true or false that was.

“Of course.”

Mick made a mental note to clean up the spoiled food later and turned to face Charles instead. “I’ll order pizza.”

“ _ I’ll _ order pizza.”

Charles didn’t push for an immediate answer, so Mick could take his time and consider the question while Charles took care of their dinner. It wasn’t the very first time they met. He remembered thinking that Charles was fun and good-looking but it was light years away from the love he was feeling now. It wasn’t right after they started having sex either.

“I don’t know,” he admitted in the end as Charles put his phone down. “I guess when you were living with us? I think that’s when it went from being just great fun to something more.”

“I think I might have fallen for you earlier than that,” Charles confessed in a low voice, making Mick stare at him in shock. “Remember my last girlfriend?”

Mick furrowed his brows, trying to recall. Charles had a history of questionable relationship choices. “Not the one that turned out to be married right?”

“Oh my God, don’t remind me,” Charles exclaimed with a horrified expression which made Mick burst out laughing. “Besides she wasn’t really my girlfriend. We just had sex like… three times? I think her husband found out about her other affair. That’s not the point,” he added quickly, as if he’d just realised that. 

Charles waited patiently until Mick managed to get a grip and stop laughing (which he genuinely felt bad about but he could remember that situation and Charles’s reaction after he’d found out and it had been absolutely hilarious from his point of view, no matter how sorry he felt for his friend). 

“Okay after that came… the stripper?”

“Yeah, well… you thought I was really crazy about her and all that, right?” Charles asked, his cheeks going several shades darker.

“What do you mean ‘ _ I thought’ _ ? You  _ were _ crazy about her. You would go all the way to Berlin just to spend time with her. And then when she broke up with you, you were completely heartbroken.”

Charles bit his lip and shifted where he was sitting on the edge of the bed. “About that…” he said slowly, rubbing the back of his neck. He let out a nervous laugh. “It wasn’t her I was crazy about,” he mumbled, almost too low for Mick to hear.

“ _ What _ ?” Mick asked. He crossed the room in quick strides to take a sit next to Charles as his brain tried to process the information.

“Don’t get me wrong. She was so nice and sweet. And also real good in bed. The way she-”

“ _ Charles! _ ” Mick exclaimed with a laugh, deciding it would be much better not to let his boyfriend get too carried away.  _ Boyfriend _ . Mick still hadn’t got over the fact that that was exactly what Charles was for him now.

“Sorry,” Charles mumbled, smiling bashfully. “What I’m trying to say is: she was amazing but I might have used her a little bit.”

Mick cocked his head to the side, regarding Charles, who was avoiding his gaze. “Used how?”

Charles was silent for a long while. “Dating her was a great excuse to spend more time with you. Alone,” he explained, finally raising his eyes to meet Mick’s.

“You would drive me to Berlin and then stay there with me. And you’d let me call you in the middle of the night to talk about her. I didn’t even care because it was so nice to get to hear your voice, I could’ve talked about anything. Like… you could have explained how the microwave works and I would’ve listened.”

Mick snorted, feeling his own face getting hotter. His mouth was suddenly dry and he had to clear his throat several times before he felt like he could speak again. “The heartbreak was real though. You’re not that good an actor. I remember how upset you were. I mean, you almost threw your phone out of the window.”

“I did?” Charles asked, widening his eyes. “I don’t remember that.”

“I’m not surprised. You could hardly stand on your own that night.”

Charles turned bright red - the most Mick had ever seen him blush. “It was real,” he admitted, apparently deciding to gloss over the remark. “Because of you.” He sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair. “I was so mad at myself because I no longer had a good reason not to tell you how I felt and I just  _ couldn’t _ . I tried so many times but I never had the balls to go through with it.”

Mick stared at him, unable to find any words to say. He had never expected Charles to be so open, yes. But perhaps more than that he had never expected him to actually feel this way. He couldn’t believed Charles had been in love with him for so long and he just missed all the signs. Though, to his defence Charles could be great at hiding his true feelings and Mick was… otherwise occupied. By Maxi and Callum.

“Charles,” he muttered but stopped at that. In the end, he just pulled Charles closer so he could kiss him breathlessly. “I can’t believe I hadn’t noticed.”

Charles laughed, wrapping his arms around Mick and pulling him down on top of him. “Don’t worry about it. I just thought that maybe I should tell you.”

“I’m glad you did.”

Mick kissed him again, tugging the hem of Charles’s T-shirt up. He didn’t get too far though before Charles grabbed his wrist and stopped the movement.

“Pizza will be here soon,” he protested, half-heartedly pushing at Mick’s chest.

“We’ve got time,” Mick replied quickly, prompting a laugh out of Charles.

“All the time in the world.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I honestly can't believe it's over. I loved writing it.  
> Thank you all for reading <3


End file.
